Reading at Hogwarts: The Philosopher's Stone
by abbzeh
Summary: Dolores Umbridge, furious and desperate to discredit Harry Potter and expose his lies, finds and reads some mysterious books detailing his life
1. The Boy Who Lived

**_Disclaimer/copyright: Any characters, places or words pertaining to the brand Harry Potter all belong to J.K Rowling – everything in this text that might be associated with Harry Potter also belongs to her. I am not J.K Rowling. I am a seventeen year old (bored, procrastinating) fan who isn't looking to make a profit off of this, and I don't intend to try. This is staying on a fanfiction website where it belongs and will never see the metaphorical light of day. All text that is in bold (and, technically, double quotation marks) belongs to J.K Rowling and I do not take credit for it – all I intend to do is make a fic centred around the characters reading about themselves in such a way that it creates an alternate universe._**

_(there, I've given full credit where it is due, so don't even come after me again, admins, because this fic doesn't contain 'interactive, chat/script, real person, mst, and etc' – I think interactive stories/fics are a waste of time, why would I want to write a script if I'm getting nothing out of it, I despise real person fics and I don't know what the hell mst is. Also, admins, are you really going to delete the fic of someone who suffers from two long term medical conditions? That's just cruel, man) _

_A/N: Sorry about the above disclaimer. I was just making sure I was covering all types of ground and closing any loopholes. So yeah, this got removed by the dictators that run this site. But I am nothing if not persistent, and I figured that if I close any loopholes (or abuse them then close them), then I should be able to get this back on. I mean, it's ridiculous that I even have to consider different options because I'm terrified of removal – when I know for a fact that there are fics on here that have been unfinished a decade, and fics where it looks like the author has the grammar skills of a five year old, and yet they're allowed to stay on here – but whatever. I'm resourceful. And I know for a fact that there are chat fics on here and yet they haven't been removed. Sorry, this has been bugging me since Saturday. _

_Anyway, I hope this is okay, and I'm sorry about the delay :)_

* * *

'_Hem hem_.'

The voice of Dolores Umbridge echoed across the Hall with a frightening loudness, cutting through everyone's conversations like a knife and breaking up good spirits. Everyone in the Hall looked up from their conversations and their breakfasts, an expression of annoyance etched on the majority of everyone's faces.

'What's the old Toad want now?' Ron muttered to Harry out of the side of his mouth, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Harry shrugged. 'Educational Decree?' he suggested, an element of mock pain in his voice and a hint of seriousness because in all seriousness, there actually could be a new Educational Decree.

'I walked into my office,' began Umbridge sweetly, voice smooth and soft like poisoned sugar. 'And I came across something rather curious.'

'A love note from Filch?' Fred suggested innocently. Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors snorted, a few of them turning red as they clamped hands over their mouths in a valiant effort to muffle the sound of choked laughter.

'I came across a rather interesting collection of books,' Umbridge continued, acting as though she hadn't heard Fred's comment and staring out over the congregation in the Hall, looking at them like a toad would a fly. 'They detail the life of one of our students, right here in this very Hall.'

Harry's heart forgot to beat in it's regular pattern, stopping and starting as a cold feeling of panic began to set in. She couldn't mean…

'I am, of course, talking about Harry Potter,' Umbridge said sweetly, smiling like she was one of the first year school girls. Harry bit down a groan, dread settling deep within his stomach. He wasn't going to seem weak in front of the Ministry hag, never. 'We will start with the first book-'

'No, really?' George stage whispered across the Gryffindor table. 'I wanted to start in his third year!' There were more snorts from those around him, those that heard the comment.

'- which is called _Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone_.'

Harry's face lost a bit of colour, but he maintained all composure otherwise, stubbornly keeping his face a mask of calm. He said nothing as Umbridge sat down at the table and opened the book.

'The Boy Who Lived,' said Umbridge, coughing like she was choking on an errant fly before continuing in her simpering sweet voice. Fred cringed at the sound.

Harry said nothing. He stared at the table, ignoring any glances that were being sent his way, shutting out the Great Hall.

**"Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much.**

'You're quite welcome,' said Fred in an overly pompous voice, puffing out his chest. Harry was reminded vividly of Percy during his Prefect and Head Boy phases.

'Indeed, very welcome indeed,' said George, suddenly reaching into his pocket and pulling a monocle out of it, placing it against his right eye. Angelina Johnson stared at him for a few seconds, speechless.

**They were the last people you'd expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn't hold with such nonsense.**

'Of course not,' said Fred and George together, looking extremely offended at the prospect of such nonsense happening. Those who were sat around them snorted with amusement.

**Mr. Dursley was the director of a firm called Grunnings, which made drills. He was a big, beefy man with hardly any neck, although he did have a very large moustache.**

'Lovely,' said Lavender Brown, her nauseated expression saying otherwise. Parvati Patil patted her hand, looking sympathetic towards Lavender's plight.

**Mrs. Dursley was thin and blonde and had nearly twice the usual amount of neck, which came in very useful as she spent so much of her time craning over garden fences, spying on the neighbours.**

'Sounds like a _delightful_person,' Dean Thomas commented lightly, with the air of someone who poured a liberal amount of lemon juice over paper cuts for fun.

**The Dursleys had a small son called Dudley and in their opinion there was no finer boy anywhere.**

There were simultaneous snorts from those who'd had the pleasure of meeting Dudley. Hermione turned her head in time to see Harry and Ron snorting into their glasses of pumpkin juice, Fred and George somewhere down the table alternating between cheering obnoxiously and cackling like hags.

**The Dursleys had everything they wanted, but they also had a secret,**

'A secret?' someone from the Slytherin table asked, eyes wide with a manic smile as they leaned forward, robe sleeves almost touching their drink.

**and their greatest fear was that somebody would discover it.**

'Yes?' Nigel Wespurt asked, grinning eagerly like an enthusiastic child.

**They didn't think they could bear it if anyone found out about the Potters.**

'What's wrong with the Potters?' Ginny demanded, glaring at the book in Umbridge's hand as though she wanted it to explode. With the intensity of the glare that she was sending to it, Harry was surprised that it didn't explode

'I can think of several things wrong with you already, sir,' Cho said, glaring at Umbridge then looking at Harry with softer eyes. Harry turned to look at her and smiled at her in thanks, heart fluttering in his chest.

**Mrs. Potter was Mrs. Dursley's sister, but they hadn't met for several years; in fact, Mrs. Dursley pretended she didn't have a sister**

Snape snorted quietly to himself. He could relate to Petunia in this circumstance, seeing as he took every opportunity to pretend that Lily's sister didn't exist.

**, because her sister and her good-for-nothing husband were as unDursleyish as it was possible to be.**

'That's not even a word!' Hermione hissed, looking at the book in pure offence. Ron and Harry looked at each other, mouths working to stay silent and not chuckle.

**The Dursleys shuddered to think what the neighbors would say if the Potters arrived in the street.**

**The Dursleys knew that the Potters had a small son, too, but they had never even seen him. This boy was another good reason for keeping the Potters away; they didn't want Dudley mixing with a child like that.**

'A child like _what_, exactly?' Hermione fumed, cheeks starting to colour red as she breathed heavily. A few people began to scoot away from her, staring at her with concern and slight amount of fear in their eyes. Each of them were making mental notes to never make her angry.

**When Mr. and Mrs. Dursley woke up on the dull, gray Tuesday our story starts, there was nothing about the cloudy sky outside to suggest that strange and mysterious things would soon be happening all over the country. Mr. Dursley hummed as he picked out his most boring tie for work,**

'Are you sure you're related to these people, Harry?' Seamus Finnigan asked, mind centring in on the 'boring' part and comparing it to the times when Harry had done something decidedly _not boring_. Such as flying to school in a flying car.

Harry just shrugged, sheepish expression forming.

**and Mrs. Dursley gossiped away happily as she wrestled a screaming Dudley into his high chair.**

'What an awful child,' said Professor McGonagall, a scowl on her face as she stared at the book with no small amount of measured contempt.

'You don't know the half of it,' Harry muttered under his breath., scowling at the less than fond memories of Dudley Dursley. Ron glanced at him in concern, eyebrows furrowing.

**None of them noticed a large, tawny owl flutter past the window.**

'Of course not,' Harry said under his breath, scowling at the table again, as though it was the table's fault for the Dursleys being so obtuse.

**At half past eight, Mr. Dursley picked up his briefcase, pecked Mrs. Dursley on the cheek, and tried to kiss Dudley good-bye but missed, because Dudley was now having a tantrum and throwing his cereal at the walls.**

'You really do have a lovely family, Harry,' said Fred sarcastically, face completely straight.

'Yeah, we'd love to meet them,' George added, an evil grin on his face, eyes alight with a darkened glint.

"**Little tyke," chortled Mr. Dursley**

'He actually encourages that?' McGonagall asked, looking at Harry, nostrils flared from the growing disgust of this family.

'Yes,' Harry said simply, idly playing with the cracks on the wooden tabletop, drawing patterns into the wood with his fingertips.

**as he left the house. He got into his car and backed out of number four's drive.**

**It was on the corner of the street that he noticed the first sign of something peculiar — a cat reading a map.**

'Really?' asked George, smirking. He shared a grin with his twin and shot a glance at their transfiguration professor. Professor McGonagall noticed their devious looks and smirks, and she glared at them in warning, eyes narrowing into cat-like slits.

**For a second, Mr. Dursley didn't realize what he had seen — then he jerked his head around to look again. There was a tabby cat standing on the corner of Privet Drive, but there wasn't a map in sight. What could he have been thinking of?**

'A question I ask myself a lot, and I always come up with the same answer: nothing,' said Harry in a dreamy, far away voice, reminiscent of Luna. The people sat around him sniggered.

**It must have been a trick of the light. Mr. Dursley blinked and stared at the cat.**

Professor McGonagall stared at the book, lips drawn in a thin white line.

**It stared back.**

'Scary thing, that stare,' Lee Jordan said mournfully, purposely avoiding McGonagall's eyes as Fred and George nodded in agreement.

**As Mr. Dursley drove around the corner and up the road, he watched the cat in his mirror. It was now reading the sign that said Privet Drive — no, ****_looking _****at the sign; cats couldn't read maps ****_or _****signs.**

'Ah, we know Professor McGonagalls's weakness,' Fred loudly whispered, eyes wide with exaggerated shock.

'She cannot read maps or signs!' George added in a dramatic voice.

'That's enough, Weasley,' said McGonagall, looking sternly at the two freckled trouble makers. They both opened their mouths, and McGonagall glared at them until they shut them again.

**Mr. Dursley gave himself a little shake and put the cat out of his mind. As he drove toward town he thought of nothing except a large order of drills he was hoping to get that day.**

'Ah, we now know where Potter gets his one mindedness,' Zacharias Smith sneered in Harry's direction, lip curling unpleasantly.

Harry sent a death glare towards the Hufflepuff. 'Don't _ever_compare me to him, Smith,' he said quietly, close to snarling.

**But on the edge of town, drills were driven out of his mind by something else. As he sat in the usual morning traffic jam,**

'He probably left the house too late to avoid the morning rush hour,' Dean said knowingly, mind flashing back to the times when his mum had left the house too late to avoid it herself, looking harassed

**he couldn't help noticing that there seemed to be a lot of strangely dressed people about. People in cloaks.**

'The horror!' said a Hufflepuff first year, earning some chuckles. The Hufflepuff blushed at the sudden attention and they ducked their head.

**Mr. Dursley couldn't bear people who dressed in funny clothes — the getups you saw on young people! He supposed this was some stupid new fashion. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and his eyes fell on a huddle of these weirdos standing quite close by. They were whispering excitedly together.**

Having guessed which day it was in the book, the teachers bowed their heads in respect. Hagrid sniffed loudly into his beard, sound dangerously like he was about to cry.

**Mr. Dursley was enraged to see that a couple of them weren't young at all; why, that man had to be older than he was, and wearing an emerald-green cloak! The nerve of him!**

'How dare he!' said Fred loudly, voice sliding back into the pompous area.

'Indeed!' George added, sticking out his chest with exaggerated movements.

**But then it struck Mr. Dursley that this was probably some silly stunt —these people were obviously collecting for something… yes, that would be it.**

'How thick are they?' Ron asked Harry, who merely shrugged.

**The traffic moved on and a few minutes later, Mr. Dursley arrived in the Grunnings parking lot, his mind back on drills.**

'And again, he has such an interesting mind,' Ginny said sweetly, smiling. 'I wonder what you'd find if you _drilled_ into it.'

Fred and Georged edged further away from her, twin looks of disturbed expressions etched on their faces.

**Mr. Dursley always sat with his back to the window in his office on the ninth floor.**

'He has an office on the ninth floor?' Padma Patil asked, raising her eyebrows. 'He can actually walk up that many flights of stairs?'

'Nah, the office building he worked at had a lift,' Harry said with a small smirk, thinking of the times when his uncle had attempted to crowd himself into one of the compact lifts.

**If he hadn't, he might have found it harder to concentrate on drills that morning. ****_He _****didn't see the owls swooping past in broad daylight, though people down in the street did; they pointed and gazed open-mouthed as owl after owl sped overhead. Most of them had never seen an owl even at nighttime.**

'How come?' asked a puzzled Ravenclaw second year.

'Muggles don't use owls,' Hermione answered promptly.

'Really?' said one of the pureblood Slytherins, tilting their head to the side in curiosity. '_Weird_.' They were either indifferent or were ignoring the strange looks sent their way by their Housemates.

**Mr. Dursley, however, had a perfectly normal, owl-free morning. He yelled at five different people.**

'Such a productive life,' Seamus said to Dean, snorting.

**He made several important telephone calls and shouted a bit more.**

'Him and Moody should own an office together,' Dean said in reply to Seamus' last comment. 'They'd be best friends. And go out and get a beer together at the end of the week.'

Seamus fought to stifle a laugh, ribs almost cracking from the effort.

**He was in a very good mood until lunchtime, when he thought he'd stretch his legs and walk across the road**

'Sorry, did I hear that right?' Harry asked, looking up with wide eyes. 'He's _walking_?'

**to buy himself a bun from the bakers opposite.**

'Ah.'

**He'd forgotten all about the people in cloaks until he passed a group of them next to the baker's.**

'The baker's, huh?' Dean said, nodding knowingly. 'Figures. I wonder if it's Gregg's he's at.'

**He eyed them angrily as he passed.**

In the corner of his eye, Harry could see Fred and George making extremely angry faces at everyone around them, glaring at them and squinting until their eyes disappeared.

**He didn't know why, but they made him uneasy.**

'_You_ make me uneasy,' Hannah Abbot said, looking uncomfortably at the book.

**This lot were whispering excitedly, too, and he couldn't see a single collecting tin. It was on his way back past them, clutching a large doughnut**

Ron's eyes glazed over a bit at the thought of food, particularly a doughnut, and Hermione glared at him, elbowed him in the ribs.

**in a bag, that he caught a few words of what they were saying.**

"**The Potters, that's right, that's what I heard –"**

" — **yes, their son, Harry – "**

Harry looked down and eyed the table again with growing interest, hairs pricking on the back of his neck as people sent him curious, pitying looks. He didn't need to look up to know that they were doing that, and he didn't need to see them. He could do without all of that, because he didn't need their pity. Not now, and not ever.

As if on a cue, his scar gave a sharp burst of pain, and idly, Harry wondered who Voldemort was using a torture toy, before it faded back into the normal prickling sensation.

**Mr. Dursley stopped dead.**

'Shame he didn't,' Harry muttered without emotion, not removing his eyes from the table, which, mentally, he had now crowned the Eighth Wonder of the World.

**Fear flooded him. He looked back at the whisperers as if he wanted to say something to them, but thought better of it.**

**He dashed back across the road, hurried up to his office, snapped at his secretary not to disturb him, seized his telephone, and had almost finished dialing his home number when he changed his mind. He put the receiver back down and stroked his moustache, thinking… no, he was being stupid**.

Harry sniggered again. That had to be the smartest thing that Vernon had ever said, and that was counting everything that he'd said during the Letter Fiasco.

**Potter wasn't such an unusual name. He was sure there were lots of people called Potter who had a son called Harry. Come to think of it, he wasn't even sure his nephew **___**was **_**called Harry.**

'They didn't even know your name?' Hermione demanded, metaphorical steam beginning to rise from her hair.

Harry shrugged unconcernedly. 'Still don't think he does,' he remarked casually.

Grinny growled, reaching into her pocket to have her wand within reach, and Hermione forced herself to breathe, smiled across the table at Harry.

**He'd never even seen the boy. It might have been Harvey. Or Harold.**

'Harvey Potter, Harold Potter,' mused George thoughtfully. 'Nah, doesn't have a good ring to it.'

'Harold Potter is the best. Don't knock it,' George sniggered, slapping Fred's arm.

**There was no point in worrying Mrs. Dursley; she always got so upset at any mention of her sister. He didn't blame her — if ****_he'd _****had a sister like that…**

'Oh yes, because your own sister is such an angel, isn't she?' Harry said loudly, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

'His sister… is that the one that you…' Ron trailed off as a grin replaced his words.

'Maybe,' Harry said, unable to keep the smirk off of his face.

**but all the same, those people in cloaks…**

**He found it a lot harder to concentrate on drills that afternoon and when he left the building at five o'clock, he was still so worried that he walked straight into someone just outside the door.**

"**Sorry,"**

'I'm surprised that he even knows of the existence of that word,' Hermione sniffed.

**he grunted, as the tiny old man stumbled and almost fell.**

'Poor guy,' said Ernie MacMillan, wincing in sympathy.

'How rude,' Professor Sprout sniffed, grimacing in the book's direction.

**It was a few seconds before Mr. Dursley realized that the man was wearing a violet cloak. He didn't seem at all upset at being almost knocked to the ground. On the contrary, his face split into a wide smile and he said in a squeaky voice that made passersby stare, "Don't be sorry, my dear sir, for nothing could upset me today! Rejoice, for You-Know-Who has gone at last!**

'And he will never return,' Umbridge added in a sickly sweet voice.

'We'll see about that,' Ron said under his breath, staring at her with contempt.

Harry sighed and shrugged at him. 'Calm it,' he said to Ron, glancing around them. 'They'll know soon enough.'

Ron just nodded and smiled.

**Even Muggles like yourself should be celebrating, this happy, happy day!"**

**And the old man hugged Mr. Dursley around the middle and walked off.**

'How did his arms fit?' George stage whispered to Fred. Everyone in the Hall began to snicker at the mental image, and the Weasley twins beamed.

**Mr. Dursley stood rooted to the spot. He had been hugged by a complete stranger. He also thought he had been called a Muggle, whatever that was. He was rattled. He hurried to his car and set off for home, hoping he was imagining things, which he had never hoped before, because he didn't approve of imagination.**

'Of course not,' Harry said bitterly.

**As he pulled into the driveway of number four, the first thing he saw—and it didn't improve his mood — was the tabby cat he'd spotted that morning.**

The Weasley twins were now looking at McGonagall, their expressions showing their suspicion and their glee.

**It was now sitting on his garden wall. He was sure it was the same one; it had the same markings around its eyes.**

'Definitely Professor McGonnagal,' said Fred and George together, grinning. They were silenced by a look from the Gryffindor head of House.

"**Shoo!" said Mr. Dursley loudly.**

'Damn, he's brave,' Lee said in awe, looking between the book and Professor McGonagall.

**The cat didn't move. It just gave him a stern look.**

'Ah, we know that look,' smirked Fred.

'From which year?' Harry asked innocently.

'I don't know,' said George, tapping his head in mock thinking.

'Now I come to think about it-' said Fred.

'-We've had it every year,' said George.

**Was this normal cat behaviour,**

'Nope!' Seamus shouted, raising his arms. 'It's normal Professor McGonagall behaviour!' He pointed at the teacher in question, smiling widely.

People around the hall started grinning as well, finding his enthusiasm infectious.

'Quiet, Finnigan,' McGonnagal said sternly. Seamus shut up, continuing to grin.

**Mr. Dursley wondered. Trying to pull himself together,**

'Like a pair of curtains?' Luna wondered aloud idly, garnering some strange looks from some people.

**he let himself into the house. He was still determined not to mention anything to his wife.**

'That's the spirit, old boy,' Terry Boot said with a smile, nodding along to the words. 'Don't tell the wife, because that's not asking for trouble at all.'

**Mrs. Dursley had had a nice, normal day. She told him over dinner all about Mrs. Next Door's problems with her daughter and how Dudley had learned a new word! ("Shan't!").**

'Such a lovely child,' Hermione sniffed, wondering how in the world that child had survived pre-school, or even school in general.

**Mr. Dursley tried to act normally.**

'My friend, we have a long way to go,' said one of the Ravenclaws.

**When Dudley had been put to bed, he went into the living room in time to catch the last report on the evening news:**

"**_And finally, bird-watchers everywhere have reported that the nation's owls have been behaving very unusually today. Although owls normally hunt at night and are hardly ever seen in daylight, there have been hundreds of sightings of these birds flying in every direction since sunrise. Experts are unable to explain why the owls have suddenly changed their sleeping pattern." The news reader allowed himself a grin. "Most mysterious. And now, over to Jim McGuffin with the weather. Going to be any more showers of owls tonight, Jim?"_**

"**_Well, Ted," said the weatherman, "I don't know about that, but it's not only the owls that have been acting oddly today. Viewers as far apart as Kent, Yorkshire, and Dundee have been phoning in to tell me that instead of the rain I promised yesterday, they've had a downpour of shooting stars! Perhaps people have been celebrating Bonfire Night early — it's not until next week, folks! But I can promise a wet night tonight."_**

**Mr. Dursley sat frozen in his armchair. Shooting stars all over Britain? Owls flying by daylight? Mysterious people in cloaks all over the place? And a whisper, a whisper about the Potters…**

'Putting it together, is he?' Harry said, frowning. 'Not as thick as I first thought of him. That brings his total brain activity up to one brain cell. Most impressive.'

Everyone who heard Harry's remark sniggered, and Fred and George high fived him across the table.

**Mrs. Dursley came into the living room carrying two cups of tea. It was no good. He'd have to say something to her. He cleared his throat nervously.**

"**Er — Petunia, dear — you haven't heard from your sister lately, have you?"**

'No, she hasn't, and she never will again after that day,' Harry commented darkly, glaring at the book again.

**As he had expected, Mrs. Dursley looked shocked and angry. After all, they normally pretended she didn't have a sister.**

Harry gripped the edge of the table whilst clenching his jaw, his knuckles turning white as he scratched the table's surface. He heard Ginny and Hermione hiss, and mutterings from Fred and George about revenge.

"**No," she said sharply. "Why?"**

"**Funny stuff on the news," Mr. Dursley mumbled. "Owls… shooting stars… and there were a lot of funny-looking people in town today…"**

"**_So?_****" snapped Mrs. Dursley.**

"**Well, I just thought… maybe… it was something to do with… you know… ****_her _****crowd."**

'What does he mean by that?' Hermione asked, turning to Harry.

'Witches and wizards,' he said in reply, glaring at the floor this time. 'Or anything magic-related.'

**Mrs. Dursley sipped her tea through pursed lips. Mr. Dursley wondered whether he dared tell her he'd heard the name "Potter." He decided he didn't dare.**

'I think he's missing a certain part of his anatomy,' Daphne Greengrass said casually, sounding like she was about to start pouring salt over someone's cut. Her sweet smile at the end only added to it, and the boys around her edged away from her, a couple even crossing their legs. Tracy Davis snorted into her hand. _Weaklings_.

**Instead he said, as casually as he could, "Their son — he'd be about Dudley's age now, wouldn't he?"**

"**I suppose so," said Mrs. Dursley stiffly.**

"**What's his name again? Howard, isn't it?"**

"**Harry. Nasty, common name, if you ask me."**

'Nobody asked you!' Ron shouted loudly, his face slowly turning an interesting shade of red.

'I like your name, Harry,' Cho said, leaning as far out as she could go from her table and smiling shyly at Harry. Harry smiled back, feeling the urge to get up and sit with her for a second.

"**Oh, yes," said Mr. Dursley, his heart sinking horribly. "Yes, I quite agree."**

**He didn't say another word on the subject as they went upstairs to bed. While Mrs. Dursley was in the bathroom, Mr. Dursley crept to the bedroom window and peered down into the front garden. The cat was still there.**

'I wonder who that is…' said George, a grin creeping onto his face.

**It was staring down Privet Drive as though it were waiting for something.**

'Three guesses who the cat might be waiting for,' Fred murmured to his twin. George hastily turned his laugh into a cough.

**Was he imagining things? Could all this have anything to do with the Potters? If it did… if it got out that they were related to a pair of — well, he didn't think he could bear it.**

'Yeah, well, I can't bear being related to you either,' Harry said darkly, grimacing.

**The Dursleys got into bed.**

'Oh God, please stop now,' a Slytherin seventh year said, her face going green to match her House and clapping a hand over her mouth. Everyone who got the gist of what she was saying looked inclined to agree with that train of thought, and suddenly the Hall was filled with a dozen ill looking students.

'Thanks,' Theodore Nott grimaced, looking like he was going to vomit right there at the table.

'_BRAIN BLEACH!_' the twins yelled in synchronisation, eyes squeezed close and gesturing blindly in front of them, grabbing hold of various, unsuspecting students as they flailed wildly. Fred managed to grab ahold of Angelina's shoulders, and she shrugged him off, sliding further down the bench and eyeing him concernedly.

**Mrs. Dursley fell asleep quickly but Mr. Dursley lay awake, turning it all over in his mind. His last, comforting thought before he fell asleep was that even if the Potters ****_were _****involved, there was no reason for them to come near him and Mrs. Dursley. The Potters knew very well what he and Petunia thought about them and their kind… He couldn't see how he and Petunia could get mixed up in anything that might be going on — he yawned and turned over — it couldn't affect ****_them_**…

**How very wrong he was.**

'And not for the first time, I wish that he hadn't been wrong,' Harry murmured, although still audibly enough for the people around him to hear him. He pointedly ignored the pitying looks again.

**Mr. Dursley might have been drifting into an uneasy sleep, but the cat on the wall outside was showing no sign of sleepiness.**

'She's actually like that! All the parties that she's ended!' Lee said with the air of someone grieving, although only the Gryffindor table heard him. Faint, hushed laughter were heard, much to the confusion of the other tables, who looked at them in curiosity and, in the case of some of the Slytherins, contempt.

**It was sitting as still as a statue, its eyes fixed unblinkingly on the far corner of Privet Drive.**

'That's Stern Look Number Four,' said a Gryffindor seventh year knowingly.

**It didn't so much as quiver when a car door slammed on the next street, nor when two owls swooped overhead. In fact, it was nearly midnight before the cat moved at all.**

Ron shuddered at having to sit still for that long. Just the thought of it made his body ache with phantom pain.

**A man appeared on the corner the cat had been watching, appeared so suddenly and silently you'd have thought he'd just popped out of the ground. The cat's tail twitched and its eyes narrowed.**

The Weasley twins nudged each other, grinning. Professor McGonagall eyed them suspiciously, sending them a stern look.

**Nothing like this man had ever been seen on Privet Drive. He was tall, thin, and very old, judging by the silver of his hair and beard, which were both long enough to tuck into his belt. He was wearing long robes, a purple cloak that swept the ground, and high-heeled, buckled boots. His blue eyes were light, bright, and sparkling behind half-moon spectacles and his nose was very long and crooked, as though it had been broken at least twice. This man's name was Albus Dumbledore.**

Those students who believed Dumbledore and trusted him cheered loudly, raising glasses and banging on the table in the twins' and Lee's case, and Umbridge scowled horribly, giving her the appearance of a constipted toad. She glared between the cheering, enthusiastic students and Dumbledore, who was serenely watching them with a small smile, barely visible underneath the white, shining beard,

Harry remained indifferent. Whilst he was loyal to the headmaster, and he would remain so until he was given a reason not to be, it didn't change the fact that Dumbledore had been ignoring him and shutting him out all year. Dumbledore might have his reasons, Harry reasoned, but it was no excuse for the behaviour, and he felt that he at least deserved some kind of explanation. Hell, it didn't have to even be long-winded. Just a word or a glance his way to break the silence.

The scar gave another burst of pain, and Harry sighed inwardly.

**Albus Dumbledore didn't seem to realize that he had just arrived in a street where everything from his name to his boots was unwelcome.**

'Oh, I knew,' said Dumbledore cheerfully, far too cheerfully for someone who was on the receving end of a toady glare. 'I just didn't care.'

**He was busy rummaging in his cloak, looking for something. But he did seem to realize he was being watched, because he looked up suddenly at the cat, which was still staring at him from the other end of the street. For some reason, the sight of the cat seemed to amuse him.**

'Do I amuse you, Albus?' Professor McGonagall asked him, peering at him through her glasses sternly.

'Not at all, Minerva,' Dumbledore said with a small chuckle, his beard moving with the action as though of it's own accord.

**He chuckled and muttered, "I should have known."**

**He found what he was looking for in his inside pocket. It seemed to be a silver cigarette lighter. He flicked it open, held it up in the air, and clicked it. The nearest street lamp went out with a little pop.**

'Cool!' said Seamus, eyes wide in awe and general temporary hero worship. The majority of the male population in the room nodded their agreement, and Dumbledore smiled.

**He clicked it again — the next lamp flickered into darkness. Twelve times he clicked the Put-Outer, until the only lights left on the whole street were two tiny pinpricks in the distance, which were the eyes of the cat watching him. If anyone looked out of their window now, even beady-eyed Mrs. Dursley, they wouldn't be able to see anything that was happening down on the pavement. Dumbledore slipped the Put-Outer back inside his cloak and set off down the street toward number four, where he sat down on the wall next to the cat. He didn't look at it, but after a moment he spoke to it.**

"**Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall."**

'Ha! We knew it!' Fred and George shouted at the same time, leaping up from their seats. In the space between the Gryffindor table and the table opposite, they started doing a victory dance, leaping around and yelling infectious smiles and enthusiasm. Students around them started clapping a beat, and the twins danced in time, their movements exaggerated.

'Weasley, Weasley, SIT DOWN!' McGonagall eventually shouted across the ceiling raising laughter, watching as the twins slowly made their way back to their seats, still breaking out into giggles.

**He turned to smile at the tabby, but it had gone.**

'Disappearing Transfiguration professors are becoming an epidemic,' Luna said, resting her head against her hands and staring off into space for a second, then glancing back to look at McGonagall. 'I blame the wrackspurts.'

**Instead he was smiling at a rather severe-looking woman who was wearing square glasses exactly the shape of the markings the cat had had around its eyes. She, too, was wearing a cloak, an emerald one.**

'Are you a Slytherin supporter, Minerva?' Snape asked quietly, mouth twitching in a small smirk. 'I didn't take you to be the type.'

Professor McGonagall shot him a dirty look, and Snape chuckled to himself. For someone who claimed to be objective, Minerva McGonagall was remarkably defensive of her Gryffindor status and had enough House pride to contradict herself. He would never get tired of provoking her that way.

**Her black hair was drawn into a tight bun.**

**She looked distinctly ruffled.**

"**How did you know it was me?" she asked.**

'Animagus and magic,' said Lee mysteriously, grinning widely as he flapped his arms around like he was wearing an oversized cloak. 'ALL THE MAGIC!'

"**My dear Professor, I've never seen a cat sit so stiffly."**

"**You'd be stiff if you'd been sitting on a brick wall all day," said Professor McGonagall.**

'Why all day?' Snape asked, amusement clear in his voice as he turned to look at the Transfiguration professor again.

'Never you mind,' McGonagall answered stiffly, slapping Snape lightly on the arm.

"**All day? When you could have been celebrating? I must have passed a dozen feasts and parties on my way here."**

**Professor McGonagall sniffed angrily.**

Seamus and Dean sniggered.

'How does one sniff angrily?' a Ravenclaw wondered curiously, tilting his head to the side like doing that would help.

'You just can,' his friend answered tiredly.

"**Oh yes, everyone's celebrating, all right," she said impatiently.**

'Not a party person, then?' Nigel asked Colin Creevey, who just shook his head.

**"You'd think they'd be a bit more careful, but no — even the Muggles have noticed something's going on. It was on their news." She jerked her head back at the Dursleys' dark living-room window. "I heard it.**

'Maybe that's how she hears the parties from the other side of the castle as well,' Alicia Spinnet said with a contemplative look in Professor McGonagall's direction.

**Flocks of owls… shooting stars… Well, they're not completely stupid. They were bound to notice something. Shooting stars down in Kent — I'll bet that was Dedalus Diggle. He never had much sense."**

'Still hasn't got much sense,' said Harry to Ron and Hermione, who grinned in response.

"**You can't blame them," said Dumbledore gently. "We've had precious little to celebrate for eleven years."**

'Therefore, that's a good reason to have a party or twelve,' said Katie Bell with a small shrug. Fred nodded and held out his hand. Sighing, Katie leaned across Angelina and reluctantly high fived him.

'Katie!' Alicia hissed, pulling her back by the shoulder and glaring at Fred, who grinned in triumph, 'Don't encourage him!'

"**I know that," said Professor McGonagall irritably. "But that's no reason to lose our heads. People are being downright careless, out on the streets in broad daylight, not even dressed in Muggle clothes, swapping rumors."**

'About me,' Harry muttered under his breath.

**She threw a sharp, sideways glance at Dumbledore here, as though hoping he was going to tell her something, but he didn't, so she went on. "A fine thing it would be if, on the very day You-Know-Who seems to have disappeared at last, the Muggles found out about us all. I suppose he really ****_has _****gone, Dumbledore?"**

'Not enough human left in him to die,' Harry said flatly, a hint of the torture he felt within his head slipping in at the last second.

'But he has gone,' said Umbridge loudly in that sweet, simpering voice of hers. 'He was gone then and he's gone now. There is nothing out there.'

Harry shook his head slowly but said nothing, and continued to stare at the table.

"**It certainly seems so," said Dumbledore. "We have much to be thankful for. Would you care for a lemon drop?"**

'What?' asked the purebloods, not comprehending what a lemon drop could be.

'_¿Que?_' someone else asked from the back of the Hall.

'Shut up, Manuel,' said Dean, saying it in the general direction of whoever said it. Those who caught the tiny reference all started cackling, whilst everyone else looked on in vague confusion.

"**A ****_what_****?"**

"**A lemon drop. They're a kind of Muggle sweet I'm rather fond of."**

"**No, thank you," said Professor McGonagall coldly, as though she didn't think this was the moment for lemon drops.**

'Aww, but Professor!' whined Fred, looking like a crestfallen puppy.

'It's always time for lemon drops!' George cried, pouting and making his eyes water.

McGonagall rolled her eyes, not moved in the slightest by their dramatic attempts. At least she knew that if their apparent ambition of opening a joke shop went up in flames, there was always room for becoming actors.

"**As I say, even if You-Know-Who ****_has _****gone —"**

"**My dear Professor, surely a sensible person like yourself can call him by his name? All this 'You-Know-Who' nonsense — for eleven years I have been trying to persuade people to call him by his proper name: ****_Voldemort_****."**

As she read out the word, she tripped and stumbled, words getting caught, and Harry smiled down at the table in amusement. He looked back up in time to see the rest of the Hall flinch, as though burned by the name itself. Well, except for himself, Dumbledore and, Harry was pleased and proud to note, Hermione.

**Professor McGonagall flinched, but Dumbledore, who was unsticking two lemon drops, seemed not to notice. "It all gets so confusing if we keep saying 'You-Know-Who.' I have never seen any reason to be frightened of saying Voldemort's name."**

'Of course you haven't,' Snape muttered.

"**I know you haven't," said Professor McGonagall, sounding half exasperated, half admiring. "But you're different. Everyone knows you're the only one You-Know- oh, all right, ****_Voldemort_****, was frightened of."**

"**You flatter me," said Dumbledore calmly. "Voldemort had powers I will never have."**

'Only because he's too good to use them,' said Hermione, shaking her head slightly.

"**Only because you're too — well —****_noble _****to use them."**

Hearing that, Hermione blushed at having essentially said the same thing as her professor, and the twins looked at her with various expressions of horror.

"**It's lucky it's dark. I haven't blushed so much since Madam Pomfrey told me she liked my new earmuffs."**

'Urgh!' Lee groaned, miming vomiting. 'Did we really need to know that?'

'Old people flirting,' Tracy said with a small grimace, hands on her stomach. 'It's like watching my uncle flirt with every woman his age that comes near him.'

'Crime against nature,' Theodore nodded in agreement, going a bit green from thinking about it. Watching them, Madam Pomfrey blushed and looked down. While she hadn't been flirting with Dumbledore, she knew nothing she could say would clear her name of this now. Damn these books.

**Professor McGonagall shot a sharp look at Dumbledore and said "The owls are nothing next to the ****_rumors _****that are flying around. You know what they're saying? About why he's disappeared? About what finally stopped him?"**

The teachers and staff members who had a shred of decency in them – so all but Umbridge – each bowed their heads as a mark of respect, and Professor Trelawney murmured a few words under her breath. They might have been a prayer of some kind, or just words of parting, but either way, the parts that Professor McGonagall caught sounded nice.

**It seemed that Professor McGonagall had reached the point she was most anxious to discuss, the real reason she had been waiting on a cold, hard wall all day, for neither as a cat nor as a woman had she fixed Dumbledore with such a piercing stare as she did now. It was plain that whatever "everyone" was saying, she was not going to believe it until Dumbledore told her it was true. Dumbledore, however, was choosing another lemon drop and did not answer.**

Harry snorted to himself, unable to stop the bitter feelings from clouding his mind again. Dumbledore was refusing to answer her, just like he was refusing to answer Harry himself. There was a part of him that took a small measure of comfort in the fact that Dumbledore seemed to be like this with everyone – evasive when it came to answering certain questions – but at the same time, the bitter voice was asking, _why are you making her say it? _He thought it with no small amount of desperation, and that desperation stemmed from the fact that he didn't want to hear about his parents being dead, especially not from a book and especially not from the mouth of Dolores Umbridge.

"**What they're ****_saying_****," she pressed on, "is that last night Voldemort turned up in Godric's Hollow. He went to find the Potters. The rumor is that Lily and James Potter are — are — that they're —****_dead_****."**

Professor Sprout and Madam Pomfrey were dabbing at their eyes with tissues, as many of the teachers wore pained expressions. The majority of the students looked sad, and some sent Harry pitying glances again, eyes darting back and forth between him and the book.

**Dumbledore bowed his head. Professor McGonagall gasped.**

"**Lily and James… I can't believe it… I didn't want to believe it… Oh, Albus…"**

McGonagall had also taken out a tissue and started dabbing at her eyes, sniffing and even now, mourning the loss of two of her favourite students and two of her friends. But then, that pain was also added to the vault of it she had within her mind, a vault she never visited. The pain there, she knew, was enormous and she knew that if she visited it, she would cry her eyes dry for days.

Snape gritted his teeth, looked down at the table to hide his true emotions. Even after fourteen years of a mainly monotonous life of teaching, the pain he'd first felt when Lily died was still there. Maybe it had dulled a bit the way a knife would eventually begin to blunt, but it was still there. Still ever-present.

**Dumbledore reached out and patted her on the shoulder. "I know… I know…" he said heavily.**

**Professor McGonagall's voice trembled as she went on. "That's not all. They're saying he tried to kill the Potter's son, Harry.**

'Story of my life,' Harry muttered, but loud enough for everyone to hear him.

**But he couldn't. He couldn't kill that little boy. No one knows why, or how, but they're saying that when he couldn't kill Harry Potter, Voldemort's power somehow broke — and that's why he's gone."**

Harry kept his gaze firmly on the table in front of him. He could feel the gazes of many of the students in the hall on his back, and he had no desire to look at their expressions. He knew that they'd pity him, be sad for him and send commiserations in the form of saddened looks.

**Dumbledore nodded glumly.**

"**It's — it's ****_true_****?" faltered Professor McGonagall. "After all he's done… all the people he's killed… he couldn't kill a little boy?**

'Of all the things to be famous for, and it's because a homicidal psychopath murdered my parents and tried to kill me,' said Harry grimly. He added with a slightly hysterical, quiet laugh, 'I'm famous for surviving past my second birthday.'

His friends and teachers, excluding Snape and Umbridge, all shot pitying and concerned looks his way. Harry paid them no mind, being too caught up in his staring competition with the table to notice.

**It's just astounding… of all the things to stop him… but how in the name of heaven did Harry survive?"**

'Because he's Harry freaking Potter!' Fred and George shouted loudly across the room, trying to defuse the tension slightly. It didn't seem to work too much.

"**We can only guess." said Dumbledore. "We may never know."**

_But you know, sir, _Harry thought grimly. _I know you do._

**Professor McGonagall pulled out a lace handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes beneath her spectacles. Dumbledore gave a great sniff as he took a golden watch from his pocket and examined it. It was a very odd watch. It had twelve hands but no numbers; instead, little planets were moving around the edge.**

'Want one!' George yelled, earning a few weak chuckles.

**It must have made sense to Dumbledore, though, because he put it back in his pocket and said, "Hagrid's late. I suppose it was he who told you I'd be here, by the way?"**

Harry, looking up at Ron and Hermione at last, exchanged a look with them and for the first time, he wondered about the possible reactions that might come of a book like this. How would the rest of the teacher body react to Hagrid's accidental hint giving during their first year, when the Fluffy Incidents had happened? Or the flute that Hagrid had sent to Harry?

"**Yes," said Professor McGonagall. "And I don't suppose you're going to tell me ****_why _****you're here, of all places?"**

'Holiday home hunting,' Dean said matter-of-factly, nodding to himself. 'In summer the prices are sky high. The time to buy is November.'

"**I've come to bring Harry to his aunt and uncle. They're the only family he has left now."**

'That may be, but I still hate them,' Harry said darkly, glaring at the book again because _why were they still reading it?_

'Technically, he's probably related to every wizard who comes from a pureblood line,' Astoria Greengrass said lightly, sounding eerily like her sister as she picked petals off of a flower head. 'Due to all the inbreeding and all that.' She tilted her head to the side and pointedly looked at Malfoy, smirking in his direction and only becoming more amused when he spluttered with indignation.

'You wanna come here and say it to my face?' Pansy Parkinson said loudly, deafening everyone around her as she glared at Astoria. Astoria eyed her with a lazy confidence that a third year really shouldn't have, and smirked, flicked her fringe from her eyes.

'No, thanks. I'm good. All I have to do is point at you and say _exhibit A_,' she said lightly, examining her nails and smiling beautifically at the outraged spluttering she heard.

"**You don't mean – you ****_can't _****mean the people who live ****_here_****?"**

'Thank you, Professor!' Harry said loudly, a ghost of a weak smile appearing on his face. 'At least someone's got some sense around here.'

McGonagall smiled slightly in response, understanding what Harry was feeling in regards to that family.

**cried Professor McGonagall, jumping to her feet and pointing at number four.**

"**Dumbledore — you can't. I've been watching them all day. You couldn't find two people who are less like us. And they've got this son — I saw him kicking his mother all the way up the street**

'He still does that, actually,' Harry said musingly, tilting his head to the side and looking off into space. He smirked a bit at the memories of it happening.

'Isn't he fifteen, though?' Hermione asked, frowning in both confusion and disgust.

Harry nodded with another small smirk.

**, screaming for sweets**

'Still does that, too, now that I think about it,' Harry added on, sounding faintly amused.

**. Harry Potter come and live here!"**

"**It's the best place for him**

'You might want to rephrase that,' Harry said darkly, snarling.

**," said Dumbledore firmly. "His aunt and uncle will be able to explain everything to him when he's older. I've written them a letter."**

'Do you really think that a letter will explain it all?' Hermione asked, raising an eyebrow at the Headmaster.

"**A letter?" repeated Professor McGonagall faintly, sitting back down on the wall. "Really, Dumbledore, you think you can explain all this in a letter?**

'Hermione thinks like Professor McGonagall!' Lee gasped, pretending to faint and earning a few laughs from the Gryffindor table.

'She's changing,' George said in horror, looking at Hermione in fear.

Hermione blushed slightly. 'Great minds think alike,' she said calmly, ignoring George's spluttering in favour of listening.

**These people will never understand him! He'll be famous — a legend — I wouldn't be surprised if today was known as Harry Potter day in the future**

'No!' Harry yelled at the twins, seeing their identical evil grins. He glared at them for good measure.

'Harry, Harry, Harry,' said Fred, continuing to grin.

'How can you possibly know-' George continued.

'-what's going through our minds?' they both finished, faces the personification of pure, manic evil.

'Because I know you,' Harry replied, glaring at them again.

**- there will be books written about Harry — every child in our world will know his name!"**

'Ah, another unfair thing,' Harry mused lightly.

'Come on mate, I know you hate it, but it can't be that bad,' Ron reasoned. He wilted under Harry's stare.

'You try having people stare at your forehead everywhere you go,' he said without feeling. 'Having a scar as a reminder of the fact that you lost your parents, whilst you were the one to survive.'

Ron winced. 'Sorry, mate. Didn't look at it like that before,' he said quietly.

'It's okay. You didn't know,' Harry muttered, wincing as his scar gave another stab of hot pain.

"**Exactly." said Dumbledore, looking very seriously over the top of his half-moon glasses. "It would be enough to turn any boy's head. Famous before he can walk and talk! Famous for something he won't even remember! Can you see how much better off he'll be, growing up away from all that until he's ready to take it?"**

'Imagine how it'll be when he finally realises that he _is _famous, though!' said Ginny, looking at Harry.

'Or imagine how everyone else will take it when he returns,' Hermione added with a small frown.

**Professor McGonagall opened her mouth, changed her mind, swallowed, and then said, "Yes — yes, you're right, of course. But how is the boy getting here, Dumbledore?" She eyed his cloak suddenly as though she thought he might be hiding Harry underneath it.**

'Albus Dumbledore: Baby Smuggler,' said Michael Corner seriously, causing a few people to snigger at the image of Dumbledore carting babies around with him under his cloak.

"**Hagrid's bringing him."**

"**You think it —****_wise _**— **to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?"**

'Sorry, Hagrid,' McGonagall quickly apologised, realising how rude that had sounded in hindsight.

Hagrid waved her apologies off unconcernedly. ''S'okay, Professor,' he replied good naturedly, smiling at her for good measure.

"**I would trust Hagrid with my life," said Dumbledore.**

'We all do,' said Ron solemnly. Hagrid beamed at him.

Harry was sorely tempted to remind Ron of the time that they had nearly been eaten by giant spiders in the Forbidden Forest because Hagrid had sent them in there, but then decided against it. Mentioning something like that at a time like this probably wasn't a brilliant idea.

"**I'm not saying his heart isn't in the right place," said Professor McGonagall grudgingly, "but you can't pretend he's not careless. He does tend to — what was that?"**

'What was what?' asked a Hufflepuff second year in anticipation. The Hall was alive with murmurings over what '_that_' could be.

**A low rumbling sound had broken the silence around them. It grew steadily louder as they looked up and down the street for some sign of a headlight; it swelled to a roar as they both looked up at the sky — and a huge motorcycle fell out of the air and landed on the road in front of them.**

Lee stared at the book with wide eyes for a good few seconds, mouth open, before saying, 'I want one,' in an awed voice.

**If the motorcycle was huge, it was nothing to the man sitting astride it.**

'Hagrid!' someone from the Ravenclaw table shouted excitedly, lost in the sea of blue and bronze robes.

**He was almost twice as tall as a normal man and at least five times as wide. He looked simply too big to be allowed,**

Umbridge nodded approvingly, sniffing.

**and so ****_wild _**— **long tangles of bushy black hair and beard hid most of his face, he had hands the size of trash can lids, and his feet in their leather boots were like baby dolphins.**

_Filthy half-breed_, Umbridge added in her head, grimacing.

**In his vast, muscular arms he was holding a bundle of blankets.**

"**Hagrid," said Dumbledore, sounding relieved. "At last. And where did you get that motorcycle?"**

'Yes, do tell,' Lee asked, nodding manically and grinning widely. Harry was reminded vividly of the Joker.

"**Borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore, sir," said the giant, climbing carefully off the motorcycle as he spoke. "Young Sirius Black lent it to me. I've got him, sir."**

Sirius… Even then, when he'd been both grieving for his best friends and beyond furious to the point of murder at Pettigrew, he'd still made sure that Harry been safely gotten away. Harry shook his head slightly in admiration of his godfather and smiled to himself.

"**No problems, were there?"**

"**No, sir — house was almost destroyed, but I got him out all right before the Muggles started swarmin' around. He fell asleep as we was flyin' over Bristol."**

'N'aww,' said the Weasley twins mockingly, looking at Harry.

He was about to say something, but Ginny spoke first. 'One more word, and I'll hex the both of you!' she hissed, pulling her wand out of her robes.

Fred and George immediately shut up, fearing more for their lives than a quick joke. For now, anyway. They knew they'd have to come up with some sort of Sister Proof Anti-Hex Thing.

**Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall bent forward over the bundle of blankets. Inside, just visible, was a baby boy, fast asleep.**

'Aww,' Ginny cooed, looking delighted at the description. A series of other 'aww's echoed around the Hall, and Harry ignored them all with burning cheeks, even Cho's.

**Under a tuft of jet-black hair over his forehead they could see a curiously shaped cut, like a bolt of lightning.**

'Bloody scar,' Harry muttered darkly. He subconsciously flattened his fringe over it so that people couldn't see it. He could see people trying to surreptitiously look at it.

"**Is that where —?" whispered Professor McGonagall.**

"**Yes," said Dumbledore. "He'll have that scar forever."**

"**Couldn't you do something about it, Dumbledore?"**

"**Even if I could, I wouldn't.**

'Pity.'

**Scars can come in handy.**

'You call this scar handy?' Harry questioned, resisting the urge to laugh slightly. The scar had caused nothing but trouble and pain for him, and had earned him the title of Lying Schizophrenic from the masses.

**I have one myself above my left knee that is a perfect map of the London Underground.**

'Nice,' Parvati said, looking slightly nauseous at the thought of it.

'What'd you do to end up with a scar like that?' Seamus asked, grinning in curiosity.

'That, Mr Finnegan,' Dumbledore said with a chuckle, clasping his hands over his beard, 'is a very interesting tale from my youth, and it may involve me losing a bet and something going wrong.'

Seamus looked like he was about to start questioning Dumbledore right there and then, but a glare from Snape and a slap from Lavender deterred him from that particular One Track Train.

**Well — give him here, Hagrid — we'd better get this over with."**

**Dumbledore took Harry in his arms and turned toward the Dursleys' house.**

"**Could I — could I say good-bye to him, sir?" asked Hagrid. He bent his great, shaggy head over Harry and gave him what must have been a very scratchy, whiskery kiss.**

Harry sent Hagrid a small smile as a few people around him cooed, the loudest being, of course, the Weasley twins.

**Then, suddenly, Hagrid let out a howl like a wounded dog.**

"**Shhh!" hissed Professor McGonagall, "You'll wake the Muggles!"**

'Because a giant motorbike rumbling along won't wake them,' Dennis Creevey grinned widely. He was well aware of how loud a motorbike could be, especially at night when everything was quiet.

"**S-s-sorry," sobbed Hagrid, taking out a large, spotted handkerchief and burying his face in it. "But I c-c-can't stand it —Lily an' James dead — an' poor little Harry off ter live with Muggles —"**

'Cue the worst ten years of my life,' Harry muttered, only loud enough for Ron and Hermione to hear him. He noticed them looking at him with concern clear in their eyes, and he rolled his eyes. 'Dudley is a nightmare to live with.'

"**Yes, yes, it's all very sad, but get a grip on yourself, Hagrid, or we'll be found," Professor McGonagall whispered, patting Hagrid gingerly on the arm**

'And THERE'S the Professor McGonagall we know and love,' Lee whispered to the twins. Fred and George grinned in response, looking at the professor in question.

**as Dumbledore stepped over the low garden wall and walked to the front door. He laid Harry gently on the doorstep, took a letter out of his cloak, tucked it inside Harry's blankets, and then came back to the other two.**

There was silence for a moment, then: 'I'm sorry, _what_?' Hermione shrieked, her face beginning to turn red with bouts of righteous anger.

Harry and Ron's hands flew to cover their ears, to protect them and their hearing from Hermione's banshee-like shriek.

Hermione turned her furious gaze on the Headmaster. 'You left him on a _doorstep_!' She was breathing heavily, and a red was spilling over her cheeks as she blushed in her fury. People stared at her in awe and fear as she proved that anger was, in fact, red.

Dumbledore waved his hand slightly. 'I did what I had to do,' he said calmly, ignoring the tiny voice inside him that had the niggle of doubt attached to it.

Hermione was not that easily calmed down, though. 'You left him on a _doorstep_, in _November_, when _Death Eaters _were still wandering around!' she shouted. In another life, she would never have lost her temper at a member of staff like this, especially not Dumbledore, but the thought of her best friend being left on a doorstep in the freezing cold, whilst the danger from the wizarding world still reigned strong, brought on a fury she didn't know she had. 'What if he'd frozen to death? Or what if a Death Eater had seen him and had decided to finish the job?'

Around her, people winced at the implications she was throwing left and right.

'I placed various protection spells around him, Miss Granger,' Dumbledore said carefully, apparently choosing his words carefully, lest he upset her any more. 'The cold would not have permeated the warming spells, and no Death Eaters – or anything that wished to cause him harm – could have gotten close to him.'

Hermione continued to glare daggers at him, not calmed in the slightest. Wary of her clenched fists and skill in magic, George carefully pulled Hermione back down onto the bench. It was with great reluctance that Hermione went, slowly sitting down and seething in her anger, breathing heavily as she glared at Dumbledore and the book.

**For a full minute the three of them stood and looked at the little bundle; Hagrid's shoulders shook, Professor McGonagall blinked furiously, and the twinkling light that usually shone from Dumbledore's eyes seemed to have gone out.**

Harry shuddered. He had seen Dumbledore without that twinkle in his eye, and he hadn't seemed the same. He'd seemed to much older, somehow, and the power that everyone spoke of Dumbledore having seemed to suddenly be visible to the entire world. Then again, the old man had been furious at Barty Crouch jr. at the time, and Harry had been close to terrified at the power radiating from the old wizard, and maybe slightly delirious from the pain.

"**Well," said Dumbledore finally, "that's that. We've no business staying here. We may as well go and join the celebrations."**

'I would pay so much money to see Dumbledore get down and breakdance,' Lee said with a faint laugh, trying to break through the tension that had formed in the Hall again.

"**Yeah," said Hagrid in a very muffled voice, "I best get this bike away. G'night, Professor McGonagall — Professor Dumbledore, sir."**

**Wiping his streaming eyes on his jacket sleeve, Hagrid swung himself onto the motorcycle and kicked the engine into life; with a roar it rose into the air and off into the night.**

"**I shall see you soon, I expect, Professor McGonagall," said Dumbledore, nodding to her. Professor McGonagall blew her nose in reply.**

'That's a bit rude, Professor,' Fred mock scolded, looking offended. He was silenced by a look from his head of House.

**Dumbledore turned and walked back down the street. On the corner he stopped and took out the silver Put-Outer. He clicked it once, and twelve balls of light sped back to their street lamps so that Privet Drive glowed suddenly orange and he could make out a tabby cat slinking around the corner at the other end of the street. He could just see the bundle of blankets on the step of number four.**

"**Good luck, Harry," he murmured.**

'He didn't give me enough luck,' Harry muttered softly, a subtle hint of venom there.

**He turned on his heel and with a swish of his cloak, he was gone.**

**A breeze ruffled the neat hedges of Privet Drive, which lay silent and tidy under the inky sky, the very last place you would expect astonishing things to happen.**

'And then, suddenly, it became the centre of all things interesting,' Terry predicted, grinning slightly.

**Harry Potter rolled over inside his blankets without waking up.**

Fred opened his mouth to say something, and Harry glared at him, pointed his wand threateningly at him.

**One small hand closed on the letter beside him and he slept on, not knowing he was special, not knowing he was famous, not knowing he would be woken in a few hours' time by Mrs. Dursley's scream**

Harry shuddered. He _hated _that scream. It seemed to tear through his eardrums and leave it pieces. Not to mention all the glasses it could probably break. Hell, his aunt could probably rival the Fat Lady for the amount of glasses she'd broken through sheer pitch problems.

**as she opened the front door to put out the milk bottles, nor that he would spend the next few weeks being prodded and pinched by his cousin Dudley…**

_Nothing new there, then_, Harry thought to himself.

**He couldn't know that at this very moment, people meeting in secret all over the country were holding up their glasses and saying in hushed voices: "To Harry Potter — the boy who lived!"****"**

Umbridge stopped reading and looked up from the book. 'That's the end of the chapter,' she announced, sounding slightly disappointed and looking like she was about to start pouting at the lack of blackmail material.

'Ah, in that case, I will read the next chapter, Dolores,' said McGonagall immediately, getting up and snatching the book from Umbridge with ease before walking back to her seat and turning to the next chapter.

* * *

_A/N: Anyway, since I did the long, 'proper' disclaimer back up at the top, hopefully this won't get deleted again. I may also start updating this earlier in the day, because yay time differences, and that might let me avoid the patrol. And I'm sorry about the radio silence for the past few days – I just had to sort a few things out and work out what I was going to do about ffnet and such, whilst trying to finish another project I was working on. Also headaches. Burning, burning headaches that make me wanna die that codeine only does so much for because this has been stressing me out and I've been getting OCD flare-ups that have been causing me to have panic attacks and literally sit here crying about 'nothing' – according to my mother anyway. But whatever._

_Anyway, sorry about the rambling. I'll get to the point. I'll update this as often as I can, which should be pretty frequently (despite the 10000 precautions I'm now taking), but I also may avoid Fridays, because this got deleted on Friday night and I don't really want that to happen again. Also, if anyone has a copy of my Chamber of Secrets fic from before, and the Goblet of Fire one, can you please PM me?_

_Hopefully this turned out okay, because I'm paranoid, and please leave a review :)_


	2. The Vanishing Glass

_A/N: __Originally, I uploaded this chapter last week, but I noticed something wrong with it after I actually posted it, so I deleted it to fix it. And whereas I was going to post it again, things got in the way. So basically, anything in this is pretty much unchanged, bar the one or two lines I didn't like. _And admittedly, I did say I'd update frequently, but things got in the way (my own medical issues, family members in hospital, insane amounts of stress over all of that in one massive shit storm - you get the picture). But on the plus side, writing this when I'm in the right frame of mind helps to keep me sane and helps with the massive amount of stress. And just generally helps anyway, so thank god for this.

_Anyway, I feel like I should address a couple of things, since I might have been a bit vague before now. This particular fic is set during fifth year, obviously, and it's set between Seamus coming around and seeing that Harry's right and the Ministry is wrong, and Marietta going and telling on them. Basically, it's set before everything went to complete shit._

_Ships wise for this: I'm trying, for the most part, to avoid ships (at least for now) this time around. Reading over the files from last time, I feel like I rushed into a few things too soon – hindsight and all that. So, I'm keeping it mainly generic for now – I mean, brotps are amazing. I love me some bromances. **But** if I do bring a ship into it (at least for now), then it'll be a ship that's canon during the current timeline (like Harry/Cho, for instance). Anything that comes afterwards, canon or otherwise, we'll have to see about. I haven't thought that far ahead yet. Oops. _

_And I think I'm going to most of my rambling up here from now on, so sorry about that. Anyway, sorry about the delay in getting this chapter up and I hope it's okay :) _

_Start song: Things That Stop You Dreaming – Passenger_

* * *

'The Vanishing Glass,' read McGonagall clearly, raising her eyebrows slightly at the title and the connotations accompanying it. She glanced over at Professor Flitwick and shared a look with him, and they both knew they were thinking the same thing. _Accidental magic_.

There were murmurs around the hall as people mulled over the chapter title, throwing curious and excited looks Harry's way. Hermione eyed him with a mix of excitement and some of the curiosity within the hall. In all honestly, she was curious to hear what Harry had been like during the accidental magic phase, whether he'd been like her. Harry just bit back a groan and ignored everyone's looks. He knew what the title meant, and only one thought was flashing through his mind.

Was everyone going to hear about his less than perfect home life before the Hogwarts stuff?

Harry honestly didn't want that to happen, had never wanted it to happen. Life before Hogwarts was something he'd strived to keep hidden from essentially-public knowledge, and even his home life now.

Snape happened to look over towards the Gryffindor table, and he noticed that Potter was grimacing, glaring down at the table and apparently ignoring everyone. With a mental, dismissive wave of his hand, he brushed it aside with a barely-there shake of his head. The brat was obviously putting on an act for the other students, and the rest of his colleagues. Personally, Snape had no desire to know about how pampered Potter was at home, to hear about how his Muggle relatives waited on him hand and foot and adored him with everything they had.

As he leaned back in his seat to listen to Minerva read, gritting his teeth and waiting for the inevitable, Snape ignored the niggling feeling in his gut that his assumptions were about to be proven wrong.

**Nearly ten years had passed since the Dursleys had woken up to find their nephew on the front step, but Privet Drive had hardly changed at all. The sun rose on the same tidy front gardens and lit up the brass number four on the Dursleys' front door; it crept into their living room, which was almost exactly the same as it had been on the night when Mr. Dursley had seen that fateful news report about the owls. Only the photographs on the mantelpiece really showed how much time had passed. Ten years ago, there had been lots of pictures of what looked like a large pink beach ball wearing different-colored bonnets**

Around the hall, the sound of sniggers filled the air as that mental image filled everyone's minds.

'What an ickle cutie pie,' Susan Bones cooed at an invisible baby, rolling her eyes at Hannah. In the background, the Weasley twins could be seen miming bouncing a ball on the floor, and Hannah giggled in response.

'Well, they got that right,' Harry said, tilting his head in thought and imagining the photographs in question. He snorted, wondering what Dudley would think if he could hear these descriptions of himself.

**but Dudley Dursley was no longer a baby, and now the photographs showed a large blond boy riding his first bicycle**

'He actually fit on a bike?' Colin asked, grinning widely and eyes shining with barely contained amusement.

Harry just snorted. 'He broke it,' he said in reply, his tone of voice making it sound like an afterthought.

**, on a carousel at the fair, playing a computer game with his father, being hugged and kissed by his mother. The room held no sign at all that another boy lived in the house, too.**

Snape started, blinked in surprise as his mind mentally turned the last sentence over. That was surprising to him, to say the least. _What, no pictures of Potter displaying his spoilt lifestyle? _He frowned, staring contemplatively at Harry, eyes narrowed.

Hermione rounded on Harry. 'And why weren't there any pictures of you?' she hissed, glaring at him. Harry eyed her with concealed concern and slowly edged further away from her.

'I – erm – I don't like cameras?' he offered, a shadow of a grin creeping onto his face. 'I'm camera-shy?'

Hermione huffed, glared at him for another few seconds as though searching for something on his face but didn't say anything else. She turned back to McGonagall with a flourish, hair whipping around her face, and Harry relaxed a bit. Not much, considering he was paranoid about the books mentioning anything about his home life, but a bit.

**Yet Harry Potter was still there, asleep at the moment, but not for long. His Aunt Petunia was awake and it was her shrill voice that made the first noise of the day.**

Harry groaned loudly, already hating his own life even more. If what he was thinking was right, and he had a niggling feeling he was, he knew what was coming next. It filled the pit of his stomach with cold dread and he felt his nerves knot themselves up over and over again. He didn't want to hear this, didn't want anyone else to hear it.

Hermione turned to Harry just in time to see him smash his head against the table, burying his head in his arms, so only his hair was visible against the wooden tabletop. She tilted her head, narrowing her eyes slightly, and Ron glanced between her and Harry, meeting her eyes and sharing the concern and trepidation.

'Harry, are you all right?' Ginny asked, concern lacing her voice as she leaned forward a bit across the table.

What looked like a nod came from Harry, slightly stilted against the table.

"**Up! Get up! Now!"**

'Lovely way to start the day,' Ron remarked casually, grimacing.

**Harry woke with a start. His aunt rapped on the door again.**

'Woah, give him time to open his eyes!' Ginny huffed, glaring at the book.

"**Up!" she screeched. **

Despite himself, Snape winced at the memory of Petunia's shriek.

**Harry heard her walking toward the kitchen and then the sound of the frying pan being put on the stove. He rolled onto his back and tried to remember the dream he had been having. It had been a good one. There had been a flying motorcycle in it. He had a funny feeling he'd had the same dream before.**

'Well, Harry dear, you see – ' began George, beginning to smile.

'– you _did _have that dream before,' said Fred, beaming.

'In fact, it wasn't even a dream,' they said together.

Harry's reply was muffled against the table.

**His aunt was back outside the door.**

'Well, she's persistent. I'll give her that,' a Ravenclaw said lightly, shrugging.

'To be honest, all I'm getting from this is that she's like herpes,' said Terry with a slight frown, grimacing at what just came out of his mouth. 'You can try to get rid of her, but she just keeps coming.'

'Well,' Anthony said awkwardly, breaking the silence that had descended upon them from that comment. 'I suppose that's true... in a sense...'

"**Are you up yet?" she demanded.**

"**Nearly," said Harry.**

"**Well, get a move on, I want you to look after the bacon.**

There was silence for a moment, then: 'They made you cook?' Hermione asked, her voice dangerously calm as she stared straight at Harry, gaze unwavering.

Harry attempted to nod, as much as he could when his head was against a table. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled again, and he knew without looking that people were looking at him again.

'For how long?' she asked, voice deceptively calm.

'Since I was seven or eight?' came the muffled reply from beneath the messy tangled hair.

Hermione and Ginny scowled, and red was beginning to appear on Hermione's cheeks again.

**And don't you dare let it burn, I want everything perfect on Duddy's birthday."**

Lee snorted. 'Duddy,' he said with a small grin of amusement, laughing quietly to himself.

**Harry groaned.**

"**What did you say?" his aunt snapped through the door.**

'He didn't say _anything_!' Ginny snarled, crossing her arms and attempting to stare a burning hole through the book.

"**Nothing, nothing…"**

**Dudley's birthday — how could he have forgotten?**

'Simple: I try not to think about my _dear angel _of a cousin,' Harry scowled, his head still against the cool surface of the table. He pressed his head more firmly against it in the vain hopes of getting it to swallow him up. No such luck. Obviously.

Seamus, Dean and Ron started snorting.

**Harry got slowly out of bed and started looking for socks. He found a pair under his bed and, after pulling a spider off one of them**

Ron shuddered like a leaf for a brief second. 'Why'd you have to mention spiders?' he whimpered, voice quiet as he compulsively glanced around.

Fred and George exchanged evil grins, and Ginny stared at them, fingers dangerously close to the pocket where her wand was hidden, and she raised an eyebrow at them. Apparently, they got the message plain and clear, and they immediately put the scheming masks away, and Ginny nodded to herself in satisfaction.

**, put them on. Harry was used to spiders**

'Until second year, when we were nearly eaten by an oversized monster-spider,' Ron added. He heard Harry's muffled snort, and people looked at them curiously, not knowing this story.

'Second year,' said Ron, blushing slightly. 'Long story.'

'One that involves spiders,' Harry added helpfully from his place against the table, and a few people smiled vaguely.

Ron shuddered again, trying not to think about the spiders. Spiders, giant or tiny or tap dancing, were the spawn of some evil, evil person.

**, because the cupboard under the stairs was full of them**

Harry gritted his teeth, clenched his jaw, steeled himself for the coming onslaught of questions he knew were bound to come. It felt as though someone had forcibly dropped a pile of ice into the bottom of his stomach, every shard adding to the dread of people finding out. They were going to find out, and they were going to _pity_ him, or look at him differently. And worse, assumptions would be made.

**, and that was where he slept.**

Harry's breathing seemed so very loud in his ears, like he was driving through a tunnel at full speed and the wind was blowing in his ears, drowning everything out. He might have been mistaken, but he was also sure that he could hear the sound of his own rapidly beating, panicking heart. However, he somehow sensed that the Hall around him had been shocked into a state of silence, eerie and frighteningly so.

Even Fred and George, who had a joke for every situation, no matter what or how dire or inappropriate or whatever the mood may be, had nothing to say to that. Still, he wasn't intending to look up right now. He didn't want to see their pitying or shocked looks, or their surreptitious glances at him, like he's something to be constantly looked at from afar. To be honest, it wasn't really any of their business what had happened in his life before Hogwarts had become a thing for him.

'You used to sleep _where_?!' Hermione shrieked, breaking the shocked, wavering silence with horror in her voice, looking down at him. Harry was stubbornly keeping his head on the table, refusing to look up and meet her furious, slightly tear filled gaze.

Ron was poking Harry in the back, trying to get him to raise his head from the table and _just look at them_. 'Mate, why didn't you tell us?'

'Never came up,' came the muffled reply, and Ron frowned, eyebrows furrowing.

Hermione had turned her steely gaze on the Staff Table, and was looking pointedly at Dumbledore, breathing heavily as an angry red spilled out onto her cheeks. 'First you leave him on a _doorstep_, in a cold month in the middle of the _night_, when you knew perfectly well that there were Death Eaters still wandering around; now, we only _just _find out about _this_!' Hermione's anger seemed to radiate from her very skin, vibrating and constant, like sparks flying from a faulty circuit. The people around her stared at her, scooted up the bench away from her.

Snape slowly shook his head, the state of shock beginning to wear off and something darker beginning to set in its place. Anger. Both at Dumbledore, and at the circumstances that lead to this very moment, sitting here and listening to a book detailing Potter's life and shattering all of his views and assumptions. _What, no pampered lifestyle? _He turned towards Dumbledore, glaring.

'As much as I hate to agree with Miss Granger,' Snape snarled in a low voice, gaze unwavering, staring at the older wizard, 'Why didn't you ever check up on him?'

'You said he would be safe there!' McGonagall said, all but hissing and spitting, rounding on the Headmaster with a righteous vengeance. '_The best place for him_, you said!'

Dumbledore looked at his own interlocked fingers, mindworks ticking and going over things and trying to find justification for the actions, anything that would make this less horrific. He found none. He looked back up, risked a saddened glance in Harry's direction, who was still sitting with his head on the table.

'I – I didn't know,' Dumbledore confessed heavily, sighing and closing his eyes for a second. 'Arabella… she said he wasn't exactly happy… didn't realise it was this bad…' Dumbledore trailed off at the ferocity of Snape's glare.

McGonagall cleared her throat, and continued reading, a note of venom there now.

**When he was dressed he went down the hall into the kitchen. The table was almost hidden beneath all Dudley's birthday presents.**

Harry scowled to himself at the memories, a surge of bitterness rising. The amount of times he'd woken up to that scene over the years when he lived with the Dursleys bordered on ridiculous, and even the thought of it right now made him feel annoyed, in the very least.

**It looked as though Dudley had gotten the new computer he wanted, not to mention the second television and the racing bike. **

'Spoilt brat,' Professor Sinistra said with a disgusted look, wondering how on Earth that child's parents had managed to carry on spoiling this child, or how they'd managed to _afford_ these gifts.

**Exactly why Dudley wanted a racing bike was a mystery to Harry, as Dudley was very fat and hated exercise**

'Still don't know why he wanted that,' said Harry as he finally lifted his head up off the table, groaning as he felt his neck crack slightly from staying in the same position for so long. In the corner of his eye, Harry could see a few people look his way, some trying to do it sneakily, others flat-out not even attempting to hide it.

**unless of course it involved punching somebody.**

'He better not mean you,' Katie said warningly, staring at the book with venom in her eyes.

**Dudley's favorite punching bag was Harry**

'_Oh_, someone's getting hexed now,' Ginny said darkly, glaring at the book and fingers trailing over her wand again. The twins looked at her, expressions a mixture of shock, pride and agreement.

**, but he couldn't often catch him.**

'Well, there's that, at least,' Hermione muttered, momentarily choosing to look on the bright side of things.

**Harry didn't look it, but he was very fast.**

'That's one word for it,' Ron grinned weakly, nudging Harry in the side with the elbows. When Harry hissed at the contact and muttered about Ron's sharp elbows, Ron's smile became more real.

'Youngest seeker in a century!' George yelled across the Hall, voice deafening anyone who happened to be sat near him.

'Best seeker we've ever had!' Fred roared proudly. A couple of the Slytherins sneered at him, and he did a rude hand gesture in their direction in retaliation.

**Perhaps it had something to do with living in a dark cupboard,**

Growls rippled through the Hall with the reminder of the cupboard, dark looks and scowls.

**but Harry had always been small and skinny for his age.**

'Scrawny git,' George stage whispered to his twin, moving in exaggerated motions and cupping his hand around his mouth as he _whispered_.

Both twins laughed quietly when Harry glared at them both in turn.

**He looked even smaller and skinnier than he really was because all he had to wear were old clothes of Dudley's,**

'They really hate you, don't they?' Neville Longbottom said with a slightly uneasy smile, speaking for the first time.

Harry grinned sardonically. 'The feeling's mutual,' he said, smiling wryly.

**and Dudley was about four times bigger than he was.**

'Funny,' said Fred in a thoughtful manner.

'He didn't seem to be – ' George continued.

' – when we saw him – '

' – and dropped the Ton-Tongue Toffee.'

'In fact, he seemed bigger than that!'

Harry smirked. 'Dud grows out several inches a year,' he casually remarked, earning some chuckles.

**Harry had a thin face, knobbly knees, black hair,**

'James,' said Professor McGonagall, smiling fondly at the sudden onslaught of memories, interrupting her own reading for a second.

**and bright green eyes.**

'Lily,' Snape murmured to himself, looking down for a brief second before flicking his eyes back to the students. Out of the corner of his eye, Snape could see Dumbledore turn his head ever so slightly in his direction.

**He wore round glasses held together with a lot of Scotch tape**

'Why?' Susan asked, looking over from the Hufflepuff table.

**because of all the times Dudley had punched him on the nose.**

'.. oh.'

**The only thing Harry liked about his own appearance was a very thin scar on his forehead that was shaped like a bolt of lightning.**

'You liked that?' Ron asked quietly, turning to look at Harry and tilting his head slightly.

Harry flattened his fringe over his forehead again, attempting to hide it. 'It was the only thing I had that Dudley couldn't take from me. It made me different,' he explained, sighing heavily. 'I despise it now.'

People shot him more pitying glances, which he pointedly ignored.

**He had had it as long as he could remember, and the first question he could ever remember asking his Aunt Petunia was how he had gotten it.**

"**In the car crash when your parents died,"**

'She _lied _to you?' Hermione hissed, voice bordering on dangerous.

'Wouldn't be the first time,' Harry replied with a small shrug, his voice calm and unconcerned, although he was speaking through slightly gritted teeth.

For some reason, that didn't calm Hermione down much.

It was taking every measure of self control on Snape's part to not rush off and curse Petunia Dursley into oblivion. James Potter, yes, he could have been stupid enough to die in a car crash, and he could see that happening, but _Lily_? Lily would never have died in a car crash…

**she had said. "And don't ask questions."**

'But how do you learn if you don't ask questions?' Terry asked, since asking questions and learning was an important part of being in Ravenclaw house. Their password to the Ravenclaw tower depended on being asked a question. A few Ravenclaws around him nodded in agreement.

_**Don't ask questions **_— **that was the first rule for a quiet life with the Dursleys.**

'Boring life, yes. Quiet life, not so much,' Harry commented casually.

**Uncle Vernon entered the kitchen as Harry was turning over the bacon.**

"**Comb your hair!" he barked, by way of a morning greeting.**

'That's what we're gonna do now,' said Seamus, grinning widely.

'Every morning,' Dean added, stretching his arms out and obnoxiously cracking his knuckles. Parvati stared at him for a few seconds before shifting further away from him, wrinkling her nose and wincing.

The people around them snorted, and Harry couldn't help but laugh at the good natured teasing. Honestly, after the reveal of his childhood bedroom, Harry was glad that there were people who still teased him, rather than sending him sad looks and pitying stares.

**About once a week, Uncle Vernon looked over the top of his newspaper and shouted that Harry needed a haircut. **

George stared at Harry for a moment, looking contemplative, before suddenly reaching into the inside pocket of his robes and pulling out the monocle again, this time accompanied by a fake, brown beard. He shoved both of them on his face, stood up, pointed at Harry and all but shouted, '_BOY! HAIRCUT! NOW!_' about two octaves lower than his normal speaking voice.

'Weasley!' McGonagall barked, interrupting the flow of reading to glare at George as he broke his own façade and doubled over with wheezing laughter.

**Harry must have had more haircuts than the rest of the boys in his class put together, but it made no difference, his hair simply grew that way — all over the place.**

Ron looked at Harry's messy hair, at the current bird's nest state of it. 'Good way of describing it, actually,' he observed, a grin tugging at his mouth. He shut up as Harry slapped his arm, grin still firmly in place.

**Harry was frying eggs by the time Dudley arrived in the kitchen with his mother. Dudley looked a lot like Uncle Vernon. He had a large pink face, not much neck, small, watery blue eyes, and thick blond hair that lay smoothly on his thick, fat head.**

Padma slowly turned an interesting shade of green, looked like she was going to vomit very soon. Parvati didn't look that much better.

'That, right there people, is what we call the Modern Man,' Lee said seriously, adopting his commentator voice and speaking loudly, 'he's gorgeous, he's grace, he's Mr Angel Face.'

Alicia, who had been having a drink of pumpkin juice, started choking on a sudden bought of giggles, and Angelina leant over to thump her on the back. All the while, she glared at Lee.

**Aunt Petunia often said that Dudley looked like a baby angel — **

Astoria smiled and sarcastically drew an imaginary halo around her head with her finger.

**Harry often said that Dudley looked like a pig in a wig.**

Fred and George beamed at Harry.

'We'll corrupt you yet,' they promised together, identical grins on their freckled faces very telling.

**Harry put the plates of egg and bacon on the table, which was difficult as there wasn't much room. Dudley, meanwhile, was counting his presents. His face fell.**

"**Thirty-six," he said, looking up at his mother and father. "That's two less than last year."**

Malfoy choked on his intake of breath. '_Thirty-six_?' he questioned, speaking for the first time. 'Even I don't get that many. Not that I need much,' he quickly added, seeing the amused stares coming from the other Houses. 'Filthy Muggles,' he added under his breath for good measure, scowling.

"**Darling, you haven't counted Auntie Marge's present, see, it's here under this big one from Mummy and Daddy."**

"**All right, thirty-seven then," said Dudley, going red in the face. Harry, who could see a huge Dudley tantrum coming on, began wolfing down his bacon as fast as possible in case Dudley turned the table over.**

'Good idea, mate,' said Ron, his voice completely serious. 'You don't want to waste your food.'

'Yes, Ron,' said Ginny, her tone completely serious as well. 'We all know that your stomach is your one true love.'

Ron's ears slowly turned red as people laughed at Ginny's comment, and she smiled innocently at him.

**Aunt Petunia obviously scented danger, too, because she said quickly, "And we'll buy you another **_**two **_**presents while we're out today. How's that, popkin? **_**Two **_**more presents. Is that all right?"**

'And he gets _two _more?' Professor Sprout said disapprovingly, shaking her head. 'The child will end up even worse!'

**Dudley thought for a moment. It looked like hard work.**

'Oh, it will have been,' Harry said, completely serious. 'If Uncle Vernon has one brain cell, then Dudders has a quarter of a brain cell.'

Chuckles were heard across the Hall again.

**Finally he said slowly, "So I'll have thirty… thirty…"**

'Honestly!' Hermione huffed, 'He can't even add two to thirty-seven!' She turned to Harry and asked, 'Does he have no knowledge of basic maths?'

'Hermione,' Harry said slowly, glancing at the book again for a second before continuing, 'this is the same boy who ate Fred and George's sweets.'

'But,' Hermione began, stopping and looking shocked that an eleven year old didn't have a grasp on basic addition, 'that's _year three_ work. He's eleven here!'

'And he's currently predicted a D or an E in most of his GCSEs,' Harry said with a small shrug. Hermione opened her mouth again, eyes wide with shock, and Harry hurried to cut her off before she could go off on another tangent. 'Let it go, Hermione,' he said with a small shrug, a slight sigh. 'He's a lost cause.'

Hermione slowly nodded, still looking stupefied that the simple addition escaped Dudley.

"**Thirty-nine, sweetums," said Aunt Petunia.**

"**Oh." Dudley sat down heavily and grabbed the nearest parcel. "All right then."**

**Uncle Vernon chuckled.**

"**Little tyke wants his money's worth, just like his father. 'Atta boy, Dudley!" He ruffled Dudley's hair.**

'Very good parenting, encouraging that behaviour,' Professor Sinistra sniffed.

**At that moment the telephone rang and Aunt Petunia went to answer it while Harry and Uncle Vernon watched Dudley unwrap the racing bike, a video camera, a remote control airplane, sixteen new computer games, and a VCR.**

'A _what_, a _what _and a _what_?' asked a Slytherin pureblood, a slight sneer there.

'Muggle things,' Hermione said with a roll of her eyes, but didn't elaborate any further on what they were. A few people looked interested in what they might be, and the Muggleborns in the Hall were staring at the book in shock at how this boy had somehow ended up with all of those things.

**He was ripping the paper off a gold wristwatch **

'What is he going to do with a gold watch?' Lavender burst out, voice pitching slightly at the end. 'He's _eleven_!'

**when Aunt Petunia came back from the telephone looking both angry and worried.**

"**Bad news, Vernon," she said. "Mrs. Figg's broken her leg. She can't take him." She jerked her head in Harry's direction.**

'Do they _ever _use your name?' Ginny asked, looking at Harry.

'Erm…' Harry trailed off as he tried to remember whether they had actually used his name. He came up mostly short, a few blanks here and there and a couple of confirmed times when they had, in fact, used his name. 'Couple of times,' he said, shrugging.

**Dudley's mouth fell open in horror, but Harry's heart gave a leap. **

'Leaping hearts are a very serious thing, Harry,' Luna said in a serious voice, staring at him with wide pale eyes. Harry smiled slightly and nodded awkwardly.

**Every year on Dudley's birthday, his parents took him and a friend out for the day, to adventure parks, hamburger restaurants, or the movies. Every year, Harry was left behind with Mrs. Figg, a mad old lady who lived two streets away. Harry hated it there. The whole house smelled of cabbage and Mrs. Figg made him look at photographs of all the cats she'd ever owned.**

Marietta Edgecombe wrinkled her nose at the mention of the smell of cabbage, feeling sick just at the thought of it.

"**Now what?" said Aunt Petunia, looking furiously at Harry as though he'd planned this.**

'Hmm, yes. Yes I do go around plotting how to break old lady's legs and ruin my relatives' day,' Harry said dramatically, a hand over his mouth.

Ron sniggered.

**Harry knew he ought to feel sorry that Mrs. Figg had broken her leg, but it wasn't easy when he reminded himself it would be a whole year before he had to look at Tibbles, Snowy, Mr. Paws, and Tufty again.**

'Harry,' Hermione reprimanded, although it was more half-hearted than anything else

'Trust me, I wanted to feel sorry for her,' said Harry, beginning to smile guiltily. 'But you'd find it difficult as well.'

Hermione stared at him for a moment before shaking her head, smiling slightly, and turned back to McGonagall.

"**We could phone Marge," Uncle Vernon suggested.**

"**Don't be silly, Vernon, she hates the boy."**

'Again, the feeling's mutual.'

**The Dursleys often spoke about Harry like this, as though he wasn't there — or rather, as though he was something very nasty that couldn't understand them, like a slug.**

Cho cast a sideways glance at Harry from her seat, meeting his eye. 'You don't look like a slug to me,' she said softly, a red tinge coming to her cheeks as she ducked her head.

Harry smiled at her, and she blushed a bit more, but she smiled back.

"**What about what's-her-name, your friend — Yvonne?"**

Harry made a face at the mention of Yvonne.

"**On vacation in Majorca," snapped Aunt Petunia.**

"**You could just leave me here," Harry put in hopefully (he'd be able to watch what he wanted on television for a change and maybe even have a go on Dudley's computer).**

'Don't jinx it!' Fred groaned, pretending to bang his head on the desk. Beside him, George actually banged his head on the table, and he let out a muffled yelp of pain.

**Aunt Petunia looked as though she'd just swallowed a lemon.**

'Sounds like a charming woman,' said Ernie lightly, turning to Justin Finch-Fletchley and laughing under their breaths.

"**And come back and find the house in ruins?" she snarled.**

'He won't blow up the house!' Ron said indignantly.

"**I won't blow up the house," said Harry**

Grinning, Ron turned to Harry and high fived him. Hermione just watched them for a few seconds before sighing and turning her attention back to the book.

**, but they weren't listening.**

Harry hummed a bit under his breath. 'A regular occurrence,' he said, voice going slightly distant for a second.

"**I suppose we could take him to the zoo," said Aunt Petunia slowly, "… and leave him in the car…"**

'What do they think you are, a dog?' Hermione fumed.

Harry shrugged. 'Apparently,' he mused, unconcernedly again.

"**That car's new, he's not sitting in it alone…"**

'Oh sure, you care more about the car than you do your nephew?' Ginny scowled, returning to her earlier activity of glaring at the book until it spontaneously combusted.

**Dudley began to cry loudly. **

Daphne jerked her head back, staring at the book like a nasty smell had just been placed under her nose. 'What the hell?' she asked blankly, looking from Theodore to Tracy for some sort of answer. Both shrugged, eyebrows raised.

**In fact, he wasn't really crying — it had been years since he'd really cried — **

'Right,' Daphne said slowly, face still slightly blank with not entirely understanding _why_ an eleven year old boy would start crying.

**but he knew that if he screwed up his face and wailed, his mother would give him anything he wanted.**

'Who does that remind you of?' Ron muttered to Harry, glancing pointedly at where Malfoy was sitting. Harry grinned in response, biting back a snigger.

"**Dinky Duddydums**

For a moment, there was only silence in the Great Hall as the students took the time to take in the nickname. Then the room exploded with roars of laughter, the sound rising to the ceiling and almost raising it from the building. Some students were laughing in a silent, breathless gesture, doubled over and cluching their stomach as tears ran down their faces, whilst others were shrieking like banshees, cackling like hyenas.

'Dinky Duddydums!' Lee breathed through new outbursts of laughter, clutching his sides in a desperate attempt to pull himself together.

'Poor kid,' said a Ravenclaw third year mockingly, sounding slightly breathless.

'Yeah,' said Parvati, still smiling. 'That almost makes me feel sorry for him.'

**, don't cry, Mummy won't let him spoil your special day!" she cried, flinging her arms around him.**

'I still don't know how she managed that,' Harry wondered aloud, picturing Aunt Petunia's arms trying to squeeze around Dudley's middle. Beside him, Ron snorted into his drink.

"**I… don't… want… him… t-t-to come!" Dudley yelled between huge, pretend sobs. "He always sp-spoils everything!" He shot Harry a nasty grin through the gap in his mother's arms.**

'Despicable!' squeaked Professor Flitwick irritably.

**Just then, the doorbell rang — "Oh, good Lord, they're here!" said Aunt Petunia frantically — and a moment later, Dudley's best friend, Piers Polkiss, walked in with his mother. Piers was a scrawny boy with a face like a rat. He was usually the one who held people's arms behind their backs while Dudley hit them. Dudley stopped pretending to cry at once.**

'Of course you did,' said Hannah bitterly, grimacing.

**Half an hour later, Harry, who couldn't believe his luck, **

'You really shouldn't believe your luck anyway. Your luck is horrible,' said Ron, shuddering as he thought about the times when Harry's luck had led them into interesting situations

**was sitting in the back of the Dursleys' car with Piers and Dudley, on the way to the zoo for the first time in his life. His aunt and uncle hadn't been able to think of anything else to do with him, but before they'd left, Uncle Vernon had taken Harry aside.**

"**I'm warning you," he had said, putting his large purple face right up close to Harry's,**

'Eww!' Lavender and Parvati squealed, looking revolted.

"**I'm warning you now, boy — any funny business, anything at all — and you'll be in that cupboard from now until Christmas."**

'Does he mean that?' Hermione breathed, dangerously calm with brewing tranquil fury again.

'Nah, he was just in the habit of making empty threats,' Harry replied unconcernedly, waving his hand slightly.

Snape watched him from his place at the Staff Table and narrowed his eyes.

"**I'm not going to do anything," said Harry, "honestly…"**

**But Uncle Vernon didn't believe him. No one ever did.**

**The problem was, strange things often happened around Harry and it was just no good telling the Dursleys he didn't make them happen.**

'Petunia grew up with a witch for a sister,' Sprout muttered to Professor Vector, frowning. 'Surely she'd be aware that accidental magic is, well, accidental?'

Vector just shrugged in response.

**Once, Aunt Petunia, tired of Harry coming back from the barbers looking as though he hadn't been at all, had taken a pair of kitchen scissors and cut his hair so short he was almost bald except for his bangs, which she left "to hide that horrible scar."**

'What an awful woman,' Ginny snarled, eyebrows pointed into daggers.

**Dudley had laughed himself silly at Harry, who spent a sleepless night imagining school the next day, where he was already laughed at for his baggy clothes and taped glasses. Next morning, however, he had gotten up to find his hair exactly as it had been before Aunt Petunia had sheared it off.**

'Unbeatable hair,' Ron said, large grin in place.

Harry smiled back, lifting a hand to mess up his hair even more just to prove a point. Snape's eye twitched at the action.

**He had been given a week in his cupboard for this, even though he had tried to explain that he **_**couldn't **_**explain how it had grown back so quickly.**

'Accidental magic, Petunia. You should know that,' Snape murmured under his breath, clenching a fist under the table.

**Another time, Aunt Petunia had been trying to force him into a revolting old sweater of Dudley's (brown with orange puff balls).**

Ron looked slightly ill at the description of the jumper, and Harry sniggered at his expression.

**The harder she tried to pull it over his head, the smaller it seemed to become, until finally it might have fitted a hand puppet, but certainly wouldn't fit Harry. **

'Thank god,' Lavender breathed out, sighing in relief at the thought of Harry not having to wear a jumper as disgusting as that. Parvati nodded in agreement, shuddering at the thought of it.

**Aunt Petunia had decided it must have shrunk in the wash and, to his great relief, Harry wasn't punished.**

'Good,' Ginny and Hermione breathed.

**On the other hand, he'd gotten into terrible trouble for being found on the roof of the school kitchens.**

Ron looked at Harry amusedly. 'And what were you doing there?' he asked innocently.

Harry smiled sheepishly in response, shrugging one shoulder slightly.

**Dudley's gang had been chasing him as usual when, as much to Harry's surprise as anyone else's, there he was sitting on the chimney.**

'Awesome! You Apparated!' Colin said slowly, eyes wide and voice awestruck.

Harry shrugged sheepishly. 'That, or I flew. Can't really remember. I was about seven,' he mused thoughtfully.

The teachers all looked at each other. Whilst accidental magic was known to have some powerful affects, due to it being random bursts of magic rather than concentrated and controlled, Apparation or flying was powerful, even for that. Perhaps they should keep a closer eye on him.

**The Dursleys had received a very angry letter from Harry's headmistress telling them Harry had been climbing school buildings. But all he'd tried to do (as he shouted at Uncle Vernon through the locked door of his cupboard) was jump behind the big trash cans outside the kitchen doors. Harry supposed that the wind must have caught him in mid-jump.**

'We're going to teach you how to lie better,' said Fred and George solemnly, their faces completely serious.

Professor McGonagall looked over the top of the book at them in horror.

**But today, nothing was going to go wrong. It was even worth being with Dudley and Piers to be spending the day somewhere that wasn't school, his cupboard, or Mrs. Figg's cabbage-smelling living room.**

'Please stop mentioning cabbages,' Marietta groaned quietly, face beginning to tinge green.

**While he drove, Uncle Vernon complained to Aunt Petunia. He liked to complain about things: people at work, Harry, the council, Harry, the bank, and Harry were just a few of his favorite subjects.**

'Now, I might be wrong –' Fred began casually, leaning forward, elbows on the table.

' – but it seems that – ' George continued on.

' – he likes to complain about you, Harry,' they said at the same time.

Harry smirked. 'I think you two might have some Seer blood in you,' he said innocently.

The twins looked mortally offended as their eyes drifted over to the Staff Table in time to see Professor Trelawny blindly knock over her goblet, spilling whatever was inside it all over the table. Harry and Ron high-fived each other, sending each other smirks.

**This morning, it was motorcycles.**

"… **roaring along like maniacs, the young hoodlums," he said, as a motorcycle overtook them.**

"**I had a dream about a motorcycle," said Harry, remembering suddenly. "It was flying."**

A lot of people in the hall suddenly groaned, a few even slapping their own foreheads.

'Leave me alone!' Harry said indignantly. 'I was ten, and it was early in the morning!'

Lee shook his head mournfully at him.

**Uncle Vernon nearly crashed into the car in front. He turned right around in his seat and yelled at Harry, his face like a gigantic beet with a mustache:**

"**MOTORCYCLES DON'T FLY!"**

'My godfather's does!' Harry couldn't help but say happily, voice low enough so only Ron could hear him. He smiled at the thought of the flying motorcycle, and his heart ached a bit. He missed Sirius.

**Dudley and Piers sniggered.**

"**I know they don't," said Harry. "It was only a dream."**

**But he wished he hadn't said anything. If there was one thing the Dursleys hated even more than his asking questions, it was his talking about anything acting in a way it shouldn't, no matter if it was in a dream or even a cartoon — they seemed to think he might get dangerous ideas.**

'Harry, get dangerous ideas?' Neville asked, sniggering. 'Who'd have ever thought it possible?'

**It was a very sunny Saturday and the zoo was crowded with families. The Dursleys bought** **Dudley and Piers large chocolate ice creams at the entrance and then, because the smiling lady in the van had asked Harry what he wanted before they could hurry him away, they bought him a cheap lemon ice pop.**

'I like those,' said Hermione, smiling at the memory of the flavour and the memories of summer that accompanied it. Her parents had always bought her one when they were on holiday in France, when they'd been at the beach and the sun had been beating down on them. Even when melting, the ice pop had been great. Hermione sighed and smiled fondly.

**It wasn't bad, either, Harry thought, licking it as they watched a gorilla scratching its head who looked remarkably like Dudley, except that it wasn't blond.**

The hall began to laugh again, cackling and roaring from amusement to flat-out entertainment.

'Harry,' said George, struggling to sit up whilst clutching his sides, coughing up a lung from his continuous laugh attacks.

'Fancy coming pranking with us?' Fred asked, in the same problem as his twin. He flailed blindly and grabbed onto George's arm, hoisted himself into a more upright position.

'We'll see,' Harry smirked.

**Harry had the best morning he'd had in a long time. He was careful to walk a little way apart from the Dursleys so that Dudley and Piers, who were starting to get bored with the animals by lunchtime, wouldn't fall back on their favorite hobby of hitting him.**

Hermione snarled under her breath, crossing her arms and clenching her fists.

**They ate in the zoo restaurant, and when Dudley had a tantrum because his knickerbocker glory didn't have enough ice cream on top, Uncle Vernon bought him another one and Harry was allowed to finish the first.**

**Harry felt, afterward, that he should have known it was all too good to last.**

'Oh no,' Ron groaned, looking at his best friend, who smiled sheepishly.

**After lunch they went to the reptile house. **

A few of the more indifferent Slytherins all looked up, expressions of vague interest appearing on some whilst others leaned forward a bit, looking alive.

**It was cool and dark in there, with lit windows all along the walls. Behind the glass, all sorts of lizards and snakes were crawling and slithering over bits of wood and stone. Dudley and Piers wanted to see huge, poisonous cobras and thick, man-crushing pythons. Dudley quickly found the largest snake in the place. It could have wrapped its body twice around Uncle Vernon's car and crushed it into a trash can — but at the moment it didn't look in the mood. In fact, it was fast asleep.**

'It's the snake equivalent of Ron,' Ginny gasped, wide eyed and looking horrified.

Ron sent a death glare her way, but his sister continued to giggle.

**Dudley stood with his nose pressed against the glass**

'His nose squashed like a pig's,' Lee predicted accurately, earning a few snorts.

'Wouldn't that be offensive to pigs?' Susan murmured to Hannah, who just shrugged, flicking her fringe from her face.

**, staring at the glistening brown coils.**

"**Make it move," he whined at his father. Uncle Vernon tapped on the glass, but the snake didn't budge.**

'That's the spirit,' Michael grinned, fist bumping the air in support of the snake's sleeping habits.

"**Do it again," Dudley ordered. Uncle Vernon rapped the glass smartly with his knuckles, but the snake just snoozed on.**

"**This is boring," Dudley moaned. He shuffled away.**

**Harry moved in front of the tank and looked intently at the snake. He wouldn't have been surprised if it had died of boredom itself — no company except stupid people drumming their fingers on the glass trying to disturb it all day long. It was worse than having a cupboard as a bedroom, where the only visitor was Aunt Petunia hammering on the door to wake you up; at least he got to visit the rest of the house.**

'You're comparing yourself to a snake, mate, you know that?' Ron asked.

Harry shrugged, uncaring. 'Yeah, I knew. Didn't bother me.'

Ron nodded slowly and smiled slightly, concernedly for a few seconds.

**The snake suddenly opened its beady eyes. Slowly, very slowly, it raised its head until its eyes were on a level with Harry's.**

_**It winked.**_

'How is that even possible?' Hermione asked, narrowing her eyes slightly as she thought about it. 'Snakes don't have eyelids.'

Fred flapped a hand at her dismissively, and she stared at him, eyebrow raised. 'Just go with it,' he said impatiently, wanting to know more about the winking snake.

'It's biologically impossible though,' Hermione murmured, more to herself this time, and she glared at the table in frustration.

**Harry stared. Then he looked quickly around to see if anyone was watching. They weren't. He looked back at the snake and winked, too.**

'Don't wink back at it,' Seamus said with a low groan, shaking his head. 'Don't lead the snake on, Harry.'

Harry blinked and stared at him.

**The snake jerked its head toward Uncle Vernon and Dudley, then raised its eyes to the ceiling. It gave Harry a look that said quite plainly:**

"_**I get that all the time."**_

"**I know," Harry murmured through the glass, though he wasn't sure the snake could hear him. "It must be really annoying."**

**The snake nodded vigorously.**

'You're having a conversation with a snake?' Ron asked, raising an eyebrow.

Harry shrugged again. 'We were both lonely, and the snake seemed bored,' he replied matter-of-factly, adding a half smile at the end.

Ron shook his head, smiling fondly. 'You're mental, you know that? Mental.'

Harry grinned full-out this time, knowing that Ron was joking with him. 'If I'm mental, then what are you for hanging around with me?'

Ron answered by punching Harry lightly on the arm.

"**Where do you come from, anyway?" Harry asked.**

'An egg, you'd think,' Luna murmured.

**The snake jabbed its tail at a little sign next to the glass. Harry peered at it.**

**Boa Constrictor, Brazil.**

"**Was it nice there?"**

**The boa constrictor jabbed its tail at the sign again and Harry read on: This specimen was bred in the zoo. "Oh, I see — so you've never been to Brazil?"**

'So, you're having a conversation with a snake about Brazil?' Hermione asked faintly.

'Technically, he's allowed to talk with snakes. He's a Parselmouth, remember?' Ron pointed out, trying to fight a grin but failing.

Hermione rolled her eyes.

**As the snake shook its head, a deafening shout behind Harry made both of them jump. "DUDLEY! MR. DURSLEY! COME AND LOOK AT THIS SNAKE! YOU WON'T BELIEVE WHAT IT'S DOING!"**

**Dudley came waddling toward them as fast as he could.**

'That doesn't seem right,' Hermione mused. '_Waddling _makes me think of penguins.'

Harry snorted. 'Dud is no penguin, I assure you.' He frowned as he thought of a better animal likeness for his cousin. 'More like a whale,' he concluded.

"**Out of the way, you," he said, punching Harry in the ribs.**

Ginny hissed.

**Caught by surprise, Harry fell hard on the concrete floor.**

Hermione growled at the book in Professor McGonagall's hands, looking as though she were willing it to explode.

Similarly, a lot of the teachers were looking at the book like that, as though it was the book's fault.

**What came next happened so fast no one saw how it happened — one second, Piers and Dudley were leaning right up close to the glass, the next, they had leapt back with howls of horror.**

'What did you do?' Hermione asked cautiously.

'How do you know I did anything?' Harry said with a small grin.

'I know you,' Hermione sighed.

Harry and Ron sniggered.

**Harry sat up and gasped; the glass front of the boa constrictor's tank had vanished.**

'Awesome!' Colin and Dennis both yelled, eyes wide and grins so wide they threatened to split their faces.

McGonagall had stopped reading for a moment and was looking over at Harry. 'Impressive, Potter,' she said, looking at him over her small glasses. 'Why can't you manage that in my classes?'

'I haven't got a snake to talk to in your classes, Professor,' Harry answered her, grinning. McGonagall eyed him for another minute before mentally sighing, smiling a tiny bit.

**The great snake was uncoiling itself rapidly, slithering out onto the floor. People throughout the reptile house screamed and started running for the exits.**

**As the snake slid swiftly past him, Harry could have sworn a low, hissing voice said, **_**"Brazil, here I come… Thanksss, amigo."**_

'The snake thanked you?' Ron chuckled.

'I don't know whether it reached Brazil. It seemed to think it could,' Harry said thoughtfully. 'I hope it did. And anyway,' he added, seeing Ron's amused expression that seemed to be permanently etched on his face, 'it was nicer than the basilisk. All that _snake _had done was try to kill me.'

**The keeper of the reptile house was in shock.**

"**But the glass," he kept saying, "where did the glass go?"**

'Vanished by magic,' Seamus answered for him.

**The zoo director himself made Aunt Petunia a cup of strong, sweet tea while he apologized over and over again. Piers and Dudley could only gibber. As far as Harry had seen, the snake hadn't done anything except snap playfully at their heels as it passed**

'I like that snake,' said Fred, smiling widely.

'I doubt you'll be able to find it,' said Harry to Fred, guessing what was going through his mind. 'This was four years ago.'

'Shame,' said George in mock disappointment. 'I had plans that involved a snake.'

**, but by the time they were all back in Uncle Vernon's car, Dudley was telling them how it had nearly bitten off his leg, while Piers was swearing it had tried to squeeze him to death. But worst of all, for Harry at least, was Piers calming down enough to say, "Harry was talking to it, weren't you, Harry?"**

'Oh no,' Hermione breathed.

**Uncle Vernon waited until Piers was safely out of the house before starting on Harry. He was so angry he could hardly speak. He managed to say, "Go — cupboard — stay — no meals," **

'What does he mean by that?' McGonagall demanded, looking over at Harry, her face stern and lips drawn in a white line.

'The equivalent of being grounded, basically,' Harry answered with a small shrug, unconcerned. 'No big deal.' And again, there came the pitying looks, and Harry ignored them.

Snape glared at him suspiciously for a few seconds, but made no comment on his own suspicions. He'd leave it alone for now.

**before he collapsed into a chair, and Aunt Petunia had to run and get him a large brandy.**

'Oh, I see how it is,' Astoria said casually, leaning forward and staring at the book. 'The lazy pig has his wife running around after him. That figures.' She snorted, crossing her legs under the table. '_Men_.'

Daphne shot her a withering look of annoyance.

**Harry lay in his dark cupboard much later, wishing he had a watch. He didn't know what time it was and he couldn't be sure the Dursleys were asleep yet. Until they were, he couldn't risk sneaking to the kitchen for some food.**

'Ah, so you'd had practice sneaking around _before _Hogwarts,' observed George, beaming at Harry.

'As we said, you need to come pranking with us,' said Fred cheerfully.

Harry smirked. 'I already said _we'll see_.'

The twins pouted mockingly, and Harry rolled his eyes at them.

**He'd lived with the Dursleys almost ten years, ten miserable years**

Harry sent a pointed glare at Dumbledore, who was busy examining the ceiling of the Hall. Typical. The old man was ignoring him again.

_Why didn't you listen to __Professor__ McGonagall, _he couldn't stop himself from thinking irritably, and maybe a little bit desperately.

**, as long as he could remember, ever since he'd been a baby and his parents had died in that car crash. He couldn't remember being in the car when his parents had died.**

'Because it wasn't a car crash,' said Flitwick sadly, shaking his head and looking down for a few seconds.

**Sometimes, when he strained his memory during long hours in his cupboard, he came up with a strange vision: a blinding flash of green light and a burning pain on his forehead.**

'You – you remember _that_?' stammered Professor McGonagall, looking over the book at her student in plain disbelief. No student should ever have to remember something like that. But then, she reasoned with the emotional part of her brain, no student should have ever been put through what he was put through in the first place.

Harry shifted in his seat, uncomfortable with the so many pairs of eyes fixed on him, and he ran his hand up and down the back of his neck restlessly. Underneath his fingertips, the fine hairs prickled his skin, and the scrutiny made him want to disappear. 'More clearly now,' he answered softly after a second, a hint of agony entering his voice for the first time.

Snape exchanged a dark look with Dumbledore at that, both of them knowing they were thinking the same thing.

**This, he supposed, was the crash, though he couldn't imagine where all the green light came from.**

'That's because it wasn't a car crash,' Sprout whispered sorrowfully. 'You were hit by the Killing Curse.'

**He couldn't remember his parents at all. His aunt and uncle never spoke about them, and of course he was forbidden to ask questions.**

The Ravenclaws scowled again at not being able to ask questions.

**There were no photographs of them in the house.**

**When he had been younger, Harry had dreamed and dreamed of some unknown relation coming to take him away, but it had never happened;**

'Yeah, because he was wrongly imprisoned in Azkaban,' Harry muttered to Ron and Hermione, the venom there again.

**the Dursleys were his only family.**

'No, they're not,' said Ron seriously, looking at his best friend, no trace of joking on his face.

'You've got us,' Hermione said, smiling.

Harry grinned at them both, a warm feeling flooding his chest and momentarily making him feel something other than the prickling pain. 'You're right,' he said, smiling at them both.

'I know I'm right,' Hermione said smugly.

Harry responded by reaching across the table and lightly slapping her arm, continuing to grin amusedly.

**Yet sometimes he thought (or maybe hoped) that strangers in the street seemed to know him. Very strange strangers they were, too. A tiny man in a violet top hat had bowed to him once while out shopping with Aunt Petunia and Dudley.**

'Dedalus Diggle,' Harry muttered to Ron and Hermione, snorting.

**After asking Harry furiously if he knew the man, Aunt Petunia had rushed them out of the shop without buying anything. **

'I'm surprised she had the guts to do that,' Lavender commented idly to Parvati, twirling her hair in her fingers, 'if I'm in a shop and I walk out without buying anything, I get scared that they think I'm robbing it.'

**A wild-looking old woman dressed all in green had waved merrily at him once on a bus. A bald man in a very long purple coat had actually shaken his hand in the street the other day and then walked away without a word. The weirdest thing about all these people was the way they seemed to vanish the second Harry tried to get a closer look.**

'It really confused me,' Harry added, frowning.

**At school, Harry had no one. Everybody knew that Dudley's gang hated that odd Harry Potter in his baggy old clothes and broken glasses, and nobody liked to disagree with Dudley's gang.**

'It's all right, though,' said Harry to the pitying glances sent his way. 'I've got these two idiots here.' He gestured to Ron and Hermione, grinning fondly at them. 'In fact, I've got everyone I'll ever need, not just those two.' He smiled as he thought of everyone who meant something to him in his life – those who trusted him enough to believe in him; the ones he counted as family; Sirius...

'As moving as this is,' Malfoy said impatiently, sneering across the hall at Harry, 'can we move this along now?'

'Shut up, Malfoy,' Ron said in retaliation, glaring at him.

'That's the end of the chapter,' said McGonagall loudly, breaking up any potential argument that might occur. She marked the page and put the book down carefully. 'Who's going to read next?'

'I will,' said Flitwick, summoning the book over to his hands with the Summoning charm and settling in his chair comfortably, opening the book at the marked page.

* * *

_A/N: Okay, so that was that, and I'm just really hoping that it turned out okay. Cupcakes to you if you found the reference to a TV show in here. Hint: it's an ATLA one (and bonus points if you found the Fawlty Towers one in the last chapter). Anyway, please leave a review because honestly, it would make my day a hell of a lot better_

_End song: To Love You More – Lea Michele_


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